University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

From  the  Collection  of 
Joseph  Z.  Todd 

Gift  of 
Hatherly  B.  Todd 


ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON 

Vol.  XXI 

ST.  IVES:  BEING  THE  AD- 
VENTURES OF  A  FRENCH 
PRISONER  IN  ENGLAND  ^  t 


THE  NOVELS  AND 
TALES  OF  ROBERT 
LOUIS    STEVEh        %r 


ST.  IVES:  BEING  THE  AD- 
VENTURES OF  A  FRENCH 
'PRte#t»feR'<TN.te¥PGLflff»*i''5|   ft 


t  PUBLISHED  IN 
NEW  YORK  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNERS 
SONS    »       Sk      1907    « 


THE  NOVELS  AND 
TALES  OF  ROBERT 
LOUIS    STEVENSON 


ST.  IVES  :  BEING  THE  AD- 
'  VENTURES  OF  A  FRENCH 
PRISONER  IN  ENGLAND   X    Sfe 


%  PUBLISHED  IN 
NEW  YORK  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S 

SONS    %       *      1907    S6 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
S.  S.  McClure  &  Co. 

Copyright,  1897,  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


EDITORIAL  NOTE 


The  following  tale  was  taken  down  from  Mr.  Stevenson's  dictation  by  his 
step-daughter  and  amanuensis,  Mrs.  Strong,  at  intervals  between  Janu- 
ary 1893  and  October  1894  (see  Vailima  Letters,  pp.  210,  213,  260, 
283,  291,  307).  About  six  weeks  before  his  death  he  laid  the  story 
aside  to  take  up  IVeir  of  Hermiston.  The  thirty  chapters  of  St.  Ives 
which  he  had  written  (the  last  few  of  them  apparently  unrevised)  brought 
the  tale  within  sight  of  its  conclusion,  and  the  intended  course  of  the 
remainder  was  known  in  outline  to  Mrs.  Strong.  For  the  benefit  of 
those  readers  who  do  not  like  a  story  to  be  left  unfinished,  the  delicate 
task  of  supplying  the  missing  chapters  has  been  entrusted  to  Mr.  Quiller- 
Couch,  whose  work  begins  at  Chapter  XXXI. 

[S.  C] 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    A  Tale  of  a  Lion  Rampant i 

II    A  Tale  of  a  Pair  of  Scissors 17 

III  Major  Chevenix  Comes  into  the  Story,  and  Goguelat 

Goes  Out 26 

IV  St.  Ives  Gets  a  Bundle  of  Bank  Notes 39 

V    St.  Ives  is  Shown  a  House 49 

VI    The  Escape 59 

VII    Swanston  Cottage 71 

VIII    The  Hen-House 80 

IX  Three  is  Company,  and  Four  None 88 

X  The  Drovers 104 

XI    The  Great  North  Road 117 

XII  I  Follow  a  Covered  Cart  Nearly  to  My  Destination  .  130 

XIII  I  Meet  Two  of  My  Countrymen 144 

XIV  Travels  of  the  Covered  Cart 155 

XV    The  Adventure  of  the  Attorney's  Clerk 164 

XVI  The  Home-Coming  of  Mr.  Rowley's  Viscount  .     .     .     .183 

XVII    The  Despatch-Box 193 

XVIII     Mr.  Romaine  Calls  Me  Names 204 

XIX    The  Devil  and  All  at  Amersham  Place 216 

XX    After  the  Storm 2C9 

XXI  I  Become  the  Owner  of  a  Claret-Coloured  Chaise  ,     .  242 

XXII  Character  and  AcQyiREMENTs  of  Mr.  Rowley  ....  254 

vii 


CHAPTER 
XXIII 
XXIV 

XXV 
XXVI 
XXVII 
XXVIII 
XXIX 
XXX 


XXXI 
XXXII 

XXXIII 
XXXIV 
XXXV 
XXXVI 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Adventure  of  the  Runaway  Couple 266 

The  Innkeeper  of  Kirkby-Lonsdale 280 

I  Meet  a  Cheerful  Extravagant 290 

The  Cottage  at  Night 299 

The  Sabbath  Day 311 

Events  of  Monday:  The  Lawyer's  Party 324 

Events  of  Tuesday:  The  Toils  Closing 34' 

Events  of  Wednesday:  The  University  of  Cramond    .  356 

Events  of  Thursday:  The  Assembly  Ball 371 

Events  of  Friday  Morning:  The  Cutting  of  the  Gor- 

DiAN  Knot 39' 

The  Incomplete  Aeronauts 407 

Captain  Colenso 430 

In  Paris. —Alain  Plays  His  Last  Card 453 

I  Go  to  Claim  Flora 473 


ST.  IVES 


ST.  IVES 


CHAPTER  I 

A  TALE   OF  A   LION   RAMPANT 

IT  was  in  the  month  of  May,  1813,  that  I  was  so  un- 
lucky as  to  fall  at  last  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  My 
knowledge  of  the  English  language  had  marked  me  out 
for  a  certain  employment.  Though  I  cannot  conceive  a 
soldier  refusing  to  incur  the  risk,  yet  to  be  hanged  for  a 
spy  is  a  disgusting  business ;  and  I  was  relieved  to  be 
held  a  prisoner  of  war.  Into  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh, 
standing  in  the  midst  of  that  city  on  the  summit  of  an 
extraordinary  rock,  I  was  cast  with  several  hundred  fel- 
low-sufferers, all  privates  like  myself,  and  the  more  part 
of  them,  by  an  accident,  very  ignorant,  plain  fellows. 
My  English,  which  had  brought  me  into  that  scrape, 
now  helped  me  very  materially  to  bear  it.  I  had  a  thou- 
sand advantages.  I  was  often  called  to  play  the  part  of 
an  interpreter,  whether  of  orders  or  complaints,  and  thus 
brought  in  relations,  sometimes  of  mirth,  sometimes 
almost  of  friendship,  with  the  officers  in  charge.  A 
young  lieutenant  singled  me  out  to  be  his  adversary  at 
chess,  a  game  in  which  1  was  extremely  proficient,  and 


ST.  IVES 

would  reward  me  for  my  gambits  with  excellent  cigars. 
The  major  of  the  battalion  took  lessons  of  French  from 
me  while  at  breakfast,  and  was  sometimes  so  obliging 
as  to  have  me  join  him  at  the  meal.  Chevenix  was  his 
name.  He  was  stiff  as  a  drum-major  and  selfish  as  an 
Englishman,  but  a  fairly  conscientious  pupil  and  a  fairly 
upright  man.  Little  did  I  suppose  that  his  ramrod  body 
and  frozen  face  would,  in  the  end,  step  in  between  me 
and  all  my  dearest  wishes ;  that  upon  this  precise,  regu- 
lar, icy  soldier-man  my  fortunes  should  so  nearly  ship- 
wreck !  I  never  liked,  but  yet  I  trusted  him ;  and  though 
it  may  seem  but  a  trifle,  I  found  his  snuff-box  with  the 
bean  in  it  come  very  welcome. 

For  it  is  strange  how  grown  men  and  seasoned  sol- 
diers can  go  back  in  life;  so  that  after  but  a  little  while 
in  prison,  which  is  after  all  the  next  thing  to  being  in 
the  nursery,  they  grow  absorbed  in  the  most  pitiful, 
childish  interests,  and  a  sugar  biscuit  or  a  pinch  of  snuff 
become  things  to  follow  after  and  scheme  for! 

We  made  but  a  poor  show  of  prisoners.  The  officers 
had  been  all  offered  their  parole,  and  had  taken  it.  They 
lived  mostly  in  suburbs  of  the  city,  lodging  with  modest 
families,  and  enjoyed  their  freedom  and  supported  the 
almost  continual  evil  tidings  of  the  Emperor  as  best  they 
might.  It  chanced  I  was  the  only  gentleman  among  the 
privates  who  remained.  A  great  part  were  ignorant 
Italians,  of  a  regiment  that  had  suffered  heavily  in  Cata- 
lonia. The  rest  were  mere  diggers  of  the  soil,  treaders 
of  grapes  or  hewers  of  wood,  who  had  been  suddenly 
and  violently  preferred  to  the  glorious  state  of  soldiers. 
We  had  but  the  one  interest  in  common :  each  of  us  who 
had  any  skill  with  his  fingers  passed  the  hours  of  his 


A  TALE  OF  A  LION   RAMPANT 

captivity  in  the  making  of  little  toys  and  articles  of  Paris; 
and  the  prison  was  daily  visited  at  certain  hours  by  a 
concourse  of  people  of  the  country,  come  to  exult  over 
our  distress,  or— it  is  more  tolerant  to  suppose— their 
own  vicarious  triumph.  Some  moved  among  us  with 
a  decency  of  shame  or  sympathy.  Others  were  the  most 
offensive  personages  in  the  world,  gaped  at  us  as  if  we 
had  been  baboons,  sought  to  evangelise  us  to  their  rustic, 
northern  religion,  as  though  we  had  been  savages,  or 
tortured  us  with  intelligence  of  disasters  to  the  arms 
of  France.  Good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  there  was  one 
alleviation  to  the  annoyance  of  these  visitors ;  for  it  was 
the  practice  of  almost  all  to  purchase  some  specimen  of 
our  rude  handiwork.  This  led,  amongst  the  prisoners,  to 
a  strong  spirit  of  competition.  Some  were  neat  of  hand, 
and  (the  genius  of  the  French  being  always  distin- 
guished) could  place  upon  sale  little  miracles  of  dexterity 
and  taste.  Some  had  a  more  engaging  appearance;  fine 
features  were  found  to  do  as  well  as  fine  merchandise, 
and  an  air  of  youth  in  particular  (as  it  appealed  to  the 
sentiment  of  pity  in  our  visitors)  to  be  a  source  of  profit. 
Others  again  enjoyed  some  acquaintance  with  the  lan- 
guage, and  were  able  to  recommend  the  more  agreeably 
to  purchasers  such  trifles  as  they  had  to  sell.  To  the 
first  of  these  advantages  I  could  lay  no  claim,  for  my 
fingers  were  all  thumbs.  Some  at  least  of  the  others  I 
possessed;  and  finding  much  entertainment  in  our  com- 
merce, I  did  not  suffer  my  advantages  to  rust.  I  have 
never  despised  the  social  arts,  in  which  it  is  a  national 
boast  that  every  Frenchman  should  excel.  For  the  ap- 
proach of  particular  sorts  of  visitors,  I  had  a  particular 
manner  of  address  and  even  of  appearance,  which  I 

3 


ST.  IVES 

could  readily  assume  and  change  on  the  occasion  rising. 
I  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  flatter  either  the  person  of 
my  visitor,  if  it  should  be  a  lady,  or,  if  it  should  be  a 
man,  the  greatness  of  his  country  in  war.  And  in  case 
my  compliments  should  miss  their  aim,  I  was  always 
ready  to  cover  my  retreat  with  some  agreeable  pleasantry, 
which  would  often  earn  me  the  name  of  an  "  oddity  " 
or  a  "droll  fellow."  In  this  way,  although  I  was  so 
left-handed  a  toy-maker,  I  made  out  to  be  rather  a  suc- 
cessful merchant;  and  found  means  to  procure  many 
little  delicacies  and  alleviations,  such  as  children  or  pris- 
oners desire. 

I  am  scarcely  drawing  the  portrait  of  a  very  melan- 
choly man.  It  is  not  indeed  my  character;  and  I  had, 
in  a  comparison  with  my  comrades,  many  reasons  for 
content.  In  the  first  place,  I  had  no  family:  I  was  an 
orphan  and  a  bachelor;  neither  wife  nor  child  awaited 
me  in  France.  In  the  second,  I  had  never  wholly  forgot 
the  emotions  with  which  I  first  found  myself  a  prisoner; 
and  although  a  military  prison  be  not  altogether  a  garden 
of  delights,  it  is  still  preferable  to  a  gallows.  In  the 
third,  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  say  it,  but  I  found  a  cer- 
tain pleasure  in  our  place  of  residence;  being  an  obsolete 
and  really  mediaeval  fortress,  high  placed  and  command- 
ing extraordinary  prospects  not  only  over  sea,  mountain, 
and  champaign^  but  actually  over  the  thoroughfares  of 
a  capital  city,  which  we  could  see  blackened  by  day 
with  the  moving  crowd  of  the  inhabitants,  and  at  night 
shining  with  lamps.  And  lastly,  although  I  was  not 
insensible  to  the  restraints  of  prison  or  the  scantiness  of 
our  rations,  I  remembered  I  had  sometimes  eaten  quite 
as  ill  in  Spain,  and  had  to  mount  guard  and  march  per- 

4 


A  TALE  OF  A   LION   RAMPANT 

haps  a  dozen  leagues  into  the  bargain.  The  first  of  my 
troubles,  indeed,  was  the  costume  we  were  obliged  to 
wear.  There  is  a  horrible  practice  in  England  to  trick 
out  in  ridiculous  uniforms,  and  as  it  were  to  brand  in 
mass,  not  only  convicts,  but  military  prisoners  and  even 
the  children  in  charity  schools.  I  think  some  malignant 
genius  had  found  his  masterpiece  of  irony  in  the  dress 
which  we  were  condemned  to  wear:  jacket,  waistcoat, 
and  trousers  of  a  sulphur  or  mustard  yellow,  and  a  shirt 
of  blue-and-white  striped  cotton.  It  was  conspicuous, 
it  was  cheap,  it  pointed  us  out  to  laughter— we,  who 
were  old  soldiers,  used  to  arms,  and  some  of  us  show- 
ing noble  scars— like  a  set  of  lugubrious  zanies  at  a  fair. 
The  old  name  of  that  rock  on  which  our  prison  stood 
was  (I  have  heard  since  then)  the  Painted  Hill.  Well, 
now  it  was  all  painted  a  bright  yellow  With  our  cos- 
tumes; and  the  dress  of  the  soldiers  who  guarded  us 
being  of  course  the  essential  British  red  rag,  we  made 
up  together  the  elements  of  a  lively  picture  of  hell.  I 
have  again  and  again  looked  round  upon  my  fellow- 
prisoners,  and  felt  my  anger  rise,  and  choked  upon 
tears,  to  behold  them  thus  parodied.  The  more  part, 
as  I  have  said,  were  peasants,  somewhat  bettered  per- 
haps by  the  drill-sergeant,  but  for  all  that  ungainly, 
loutish  fellows,  with  no  more  than  a  mere  barrack-room 
smartness  of  address :  indeed,  you  could  have  seen  our 
army  nowhere  more  discreditably  represented  than  in 
this  Castle  of  Edinburgh.  And  I  used  to  see  myself  in 
fancy,  and  blush.  It  seemed  that  my  more  elegant 
carriage  would  but  point  the  insult  of  the  travesty.  And 
I  remembered  the  days  when  I  wore  the  coarse  but  hon- 
ourable coat  of  a  soldier;  and  remembered  farther  back 


ST.  IVES 

how  many  of  the  noble,  the  fair,  and  the  gracious  had 
taken  a  delight  to  tend  my  childhood.  .  .  .  But  I  must 
not  recall  these  tender  and  sorrowful  memories  twice; 
their  place  is  farther  on,  and  I  am  now  upon  another 
business.  The  perfidy  of  the  Britannic  Government 
stood  nowhere  more  openly  confessed  than  in  one  par- 
ticular of  our  discipline:  that  we  were  shaved  twice  in 
the  week.  To  a  man  who  has  loved  all  his  life  to  ba 
fresh  shaven,  can  a  more  irritating  indignity  be  devised  ? 
Monday  and  Thursday  were  the  days.  Take  the  Thurs- 
day, and  conceive  the  picture  I  must  present  by  Sunday 
evening!  And  Saturday,  which  was  almost  as  bad,  was 
the  great  day  for  visitors. 

Those  who  came  to  our  market  were  of  all  qualities, 
men  and  women,  the  lean  and  the  stout,  the  plain  and 
the  fairly  pretty.  Sure,  if  people  at  all  understood  the 
power  of  beauty,  there  would  be  no  prayers  addressed 
except  to  Venus;  and  the  mere  privilege  of  beholding  a 
comely  woman  is  worth  paying  for.  Our  visitors,  upon 
the  whole,  were  not  much  to  boast  of;  and  yet,  sitting 
in  a  corner  and  very  much  ashamed  of  myself  and  my 
absurd  appearance,  I  have  again  and  again  tasted  the 
finest,  the  rarest,  and  the  most  ethereal  pleasures  in  a 
glance  of  an  eye  that  I  should  never  see  again — and  never 
wanted  to.  The  flower  of  the  hedgerow  and  the  star  in 
heaven  satisfy  and  delight  us:  how  much  more  the  look 
of  that  exquisite  being  who  was  created  to  bear  and  rear, 
to  madden  and  rejoice,  mankind! 

There  was  one  young  lady  in  particular,  about  eighteen 
or  nineteen,  tall,  of  a  gallant  carriage,  and  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  hair  in  which  the  sun  found  threads  of  gold. 
As  soon  as  she  came  in  the  courtyard  (and  she  was  a 

6 


A  TALE  OF  A  LION   RAMPANT 

rather  frequent  visitor)  it  seemed  I  was  aware  of  it.  She 
had  an  air  of  angelic  candour,  yet  of  a  high  spirit;  she 
stepped  like  a  Diana,  every  movement  was  noble  and 
free.  One  day  there  was  a  strong  east  wind ;  the  banner 
was  straining  at  the  flagstaff;  below  us  the  smoke  of 
the  city  chimneys  blew  hither  and  thither  in  a  thousand 
crazy  variations;  and  away  out  on  the  Forth  we  could 
see  the  ships  lying  down  to  it  and  scudding.  I  was 
thinking  what  a  vile  day  it  was,  when  she  appeared. 
Her  hair  blew  in  the  wind  with  changes  of  colour;  her 
garments  moulded  her  with  the  accuracy  of  sculpture; 
the  ends  of  her  shawl  fluttered  about  her  ear  and  were 
caught  in  again  with  an  inimitable  deftness.  You  have 
seen  a  pool  on  a  gusty  day,  how  it  suddenly  sparkles 
and  flashes  like  a  thing  alive  ?  So  this  lady's  face  had 
become  animated  and  coloured;  and  as  I  saw  her  stand- 
ing, somewhat  inclined,  her  lips  parted,  a  divine  trouble 
in  her  eyes,  I  could  have  clapped  my  hands  in  applause, 
and  was  ready  to  acclaim  her  a  genuine  daughter  of  the 
winds.  What  put  it  in  my  head,  I  know  not:  perhaps 
because  it  was  a  Thursday  and  I  was  new  from  the 
razor;  but  1  determined  to  engage  her  attention  no  later 
than  that  day.  She  was  approaching  that  part  of  the 
court  in  which  I  sat  with  my  merchandise,  when  I  ob- 
served her  handkerchief  to  escape  from  her  hands  and 
fall  to  the  ground ;  the  next  moment,  the  wind  had  taken 
it  up  and  carried  it  within  my  reach.  I  was  on  foot  at 
once:  I  had  forgot  my  mustard-coloured  clothes,  I  had 
forgot  the  private  soldier  and  his  salute.  Bowing  deeply, 
I  offeied  her  the  slip  of  cambric. 

"Madam,"  said  I,  "your  handkerchief.     The  wind 
brought  it  me." 

7 


ST.  IVES 

I  met  her  eyes  fully. 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  said  she. 

"The  wind  brought  it  me,"  I  repeated.  "May  I  not 
take  it  for  an  omen  ?  You  have  an  English  proverb, 
*  It's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good.' " 

"  Well,"  she  said,  with  a  smile,  " '  One  good  turn  de- 
serves another.*    I  will  see  what  you  have." 

She  followed  me  to  where  my  wares  were  spread 
out  under  lee  of  a  piece  of  cannon. 

"Alas,  mademoiselle!"  said  I,  "I  am  no  very  perfect 
craftsman.  This  is  supposed  to  be  a  house,  and  you 
see  the  chimneys  are  awry.  You  may  call  this  a  box  it 
you  are  very  indulgent;  but  see  where  my  tool  slipped! 
Yes,  I  am  afraid  you  may  go  from  one  to  another,  and 
fmd  a  flaw  in  everything.  Failures  for  Sale  should  be 
on  my  signboard.  I  do  not  keep  a  shop;  I  keep  a 
Humorous  Museum."  I  cast  a  smiling  glance  about  my 
display  and  then  at  her,  and  instantly  became  grave. 
** Strange,  is  it  not,"  I  added,  "that  a  grown  man  and  a 
soldier  should  be  engaged  upon  such  trash,  and  a  sad 
heart  produce  anything  so  funny  to  look  at  ?  " 

An  unpleasant  voice  summoned  her  at  this  moment 
by  the  name  of  Flora,  and  she  made  a  hasty  purchase 
and  rejoined  her  party. 

A  few  days  after  she  came  again.  But  I  must  first 
tell  you  how  she  came  to  be  so  frequent.  Her  aunt  was 
one  of  those  terrible  British  old  maids,  of  which  the 
world  has  heard  much;  and  having  nothing  whatever 
to  do  and  a  word  or  two  of  French,  she  had  taken  what 
she  called  an  interest  in  the  French  prisoners.  A  big, 
bustling,  bold  old  lady,  she  flounced  about  our  market- 
place with  insufferable  airs  of  patronage  and  conde 

8 


A  TALE  OF  A   LION   RAMPANT 

scension.  She  bought,  indeed,  with  liberality,  but  her 
manner  of  studying  us  through  a  quizzing  glass,  and 
playing  cicerone  to  her  followers,  acquitted  us  of  any 
gratitude.  She  had  a  tail  behind  her  of  heavy,  obse- 
quious old  gentlemen,  or  dull,  giggling  misses,  to  whom 
she  appeared  to  be  an  oracle.  "  This  one  can  really  carve 
prettily:  is  he  not  a  quiz  with  his  big  whiskers.^  "  she 
would  say.  "And  this  one,"  indicating  myself  with 
her  gold  eye-glass,  "is,  I  assure  you,  quite  an  oddity." 
The  oddity,  you  may  be  certain,  ground  his  teeth.  She 
had  a  way  of  standing  in  our  midst,  nodding  around, 
and  addressing  us  in  what  she  imagined  to  be  French : 
"  BiennCy  hommesl  ga  va  bienne  ?  "  I  took  the  freedom 
to  reply  in  the  same  lingo:  "  Bienne,  femme!  ga  va  coucU 
coiici  tout  d'meme,  la  botirgeoise  I "  And  at  that,  when 
we  had  all  laughed  with  a  little  more  heartiness  than  was 
entirely  civil,  "  I  told  you  he  was  quite  an  oddity!"  says 
she  in  triumph.  Needless  to  say,  these  passages  were 
before  I  had  remarked  the  niece. 

The  aunt  came  on  the  day  in  question  with  a  follow- 
ing rather  more  than  usually  large,  which  she  manoeuvred 
to  and  fro  about  the  market  and  lectured  to  at  rather 
more  than  usual  length,  and  with  rather  less  than  her 
accustomed  tact.  I  kept  my  eyes  down,  but  they  were 
ever  fixed  in  the  same  direction,  quite  in  vain.  The 
aunt  came  and  went,  and  pulled  us  out,  and  showed  us 
off,  like  caged  monkeys ;  but  the  niece  kept  herself  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  crowd  and  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  courtyard,  and  departed  at  last  as  she  had  come, 
without  a  sign.  Closely  as  I  had  watched  her,  I  could 
not  say  her  eyes  had  ever  rested  on  me  for  an  instant; 
and  my  heart  was  overwhelmed  with  bitterness  and 

9 


ST.  IVES 

blackness.  I  tore  out  her  detested  image;  I  felt  I  was 
done  with  her  for  ever;  I  laughed  at  myself  savagely, 
because  I  had  thought  to  please;  when  I  lay  down  at 
night,  sleep  forsook  me,  and  I  lay,  and  rolled,  and 
gloated  on  her  charms,  and  cursed  her  insensibility, 
for  half  the  night.  How  trivial  1  thought  her!  and  how 
trivial  her  sex!  A  man  might  be  an  angel  or  an  Apollo, 
and  a  mustard-coloured  coat  would  wholly  blind  them 
to  his  merits.  I  was  a  prisoner,  a  slave,  a  contemned 
and  despicable  being,  the  butt  of  her  sniggering  coun- 
trymen. I  would  take  the  lesson:  no  proud  daughter 
of  my  foes  should  have  the  chance  to  mock  at  me  again ; 
none  in  the  future  should  have  the  chance  to  think  I  had 
looked  at  her  with  admiration.  You  cannot  imagine  any 
one  of  a  more  resolute  and  independent  spirit,  or  whose 
bosom  was  more  wholly  mailed  with  patriotic  arrogance, 
than  I.  Before  I  dropped  asleep,  I  had  remembered  all 
the  infamies  of„  Britain,  and  debited  them  in  an  over- 
whelming column  to  Flora. 

The  next  day,  as  I  sat  in  my  place,  I  became  conscious 
there  was  some  one  standing  near;  and  behold,  it  was 
herself!  I  kept  my  seat,  at  first  in  the  confusion  of  my 
mind,  later  on  from  policy;  and  she  stood,  and  leaned 
a  little  over  me,  as  in  pity.  She  was  very  still  and  timid ; 
her  voice  was  low.  Did  I  suffer  in  my  captivity  ?  she 
asked  me.     Had  I  to  complain  of  any  hardship  ? 

"  Mademoiselle,  1  have  not  learned  to  complain,"  said 
I.     "  I  am  a  soldier  of  Napoleon." 

She  sighed.  "At  least  you  must  regret  La  France,'* 
said  she,  and  coloured  a  little  as  she  pronounced  the 
words,  which  she  did  with  a  pretty  strangeness  of 
accent 

10 


A  TALE  OF  A  LION  RAMPANT 

"  What  am  I  to  say  ?  "  I  replied.  "  If  you  were  ciarried 
from  this  country,  for  which  you  seem  so  wholly  suited, 
where  the  very  rains  and  winds  seem  to  become  you 
like  ornaments,  would  you  regret,  do  you  think  ?  We 
must  surely  all  regret!  the  son  to  his  mother,  the  man 
to  his  country;  these  are  native  feelings." 

"  You  have  a  mother  ?  "  she  asked. 

"In  heaven,  mademoiselle,"  I  answered.  "She,  and 
my  father  also,  went  by  the  same  road  to  heaven  as  so 
many  others  of  the  fair  and  brave:  they  followed  their 
queen  upon  the  scaffold.  So,  you  see,  I  am  not  so  much 
to  be  pitied  in  my  prison,"  I  continued:  "there  are  none 
to  wait  for  me ;  I  am  alone  in  the  world.  Tis  a  different 
case,  for  instance,  with  yon  poor  fellow  in  the  cloth 
cap.  His  bed  is  next  to  mine,  and  in  the  night  I  hear 
him  sobbing  to  himself.  He  has  a  tender  character,  full 
of  tender  and  pretty  sentiments ;  and  in  the  dark  at  night, 
and  sometimes  by  day  when  he  can  get  me  apart  with 
him,  he  laments  a  mother  and  a  sweetheart.  Do  you 
know  what  made  him  take  me  for  a  confidant  ?  " 

She  parted  her  lips  with  a  look,  but  did  not  speak. 
The  look  burned  all  through  me  with  a  sudden  vital 
heat. 

"  Because  I  had  once  seen,  in  marching  by,  the  belfry 
of  his  village!"  I  continued.  "The  circumstance  is 
quaint  enough.  It  seems  to  bind  up  into  one  the  whole 
bundle  of  those  human  instincts  that  make  life  beautiful, 
and  people  and  places  dear— and  from  which  it  would 
seem  I  am  cut  off!" 

I  rested  my  chin  on  my  knee  and  looked  before  me 
on  the  ground.  I  had  been  talking  until  then  to  hold 
her;  but  I  was  now  not  sorry  she  should  go:  an  im- 

II 


ST.  IVES 

pression  is  a  thing  so  delicate  to  produce  and  so  easy  to 
overthrow!     Presently  she  seemed  to  make  an  effort. 

"  1  will  take  this  toy,"  she  said,  laid  a  five-and-sixpenny 
piece  in  my  hand,  and  was  gone  ere  I  could  thank  her. 

I  retired  to  a  place  apart  near  the  ramparts  and  behind 
a  gun.  The  beauty,  the  expression  of  her  eyes,  the  tear 
that  had  trembled  there,  the  compassion  in  her  voice, 
and  a  kind  of  wild  elegance  that  consecrated  the  freedom 
of  her  movements,  all  combined  to  enslave  my  imagina- 
tion and  inflame  my  heart.  What  had  she  said  ?  Noth- 
ing to  signify;  but  her  eyes  had  met  mine,  and  the  fire 
they  had  kindled  burned  inextinguishably  in  my  veins. 
I  loved  her:  and  I  did  not  fear  to  hope.  Twice  I  had 
spoken  with  her;  and  in  both  interviews  I  had  been  well 
inspired,  I  had  engaged  her  sympathies,  I  had  found 
words  that  she  must  remember,  that  would  ring  in  her 
ears  at  night  upon  her  bed.  What  mattered  if  I  were 
half  shaved  and  my  clothes  a  caricature  ?  I  was  still  a 
man,  and  I  had  drawn  my  image  on  her  memory.  I 
was  still  a  man,  and,  as  I  trembled  to  realise,  she  was 
still  a  woman.  Many  waters  cannot  quench  love;  and 
love,  which  is  the  law  of  the  world,  was  on  my  side. 
I  closed  my  eyes,  and  she  sprang  up  on  the  background 
of  the  darkness,  more  beautiful  than  in  life.  "Ah!" 
thought  I,  "  and  you  too,  my  dear,  you  too  must  carry 
away  with  you  a  picture,  that  you  are  still  to  behold 
again  and  still  to  embellish.  In  the  darkness  of  night, 
in  the  streets  by  day,  still  you  are  to  have  my  voice  and 
face,  whispering,  making  love  for  me,  encroaching  on 
your  shy  heart.  Shy  as  your  heart  is,  //  is  lodged  there 
—/am  lodged  there;  let  the  hours  do  their  office— let 
time  continue  to  draw  me  ever  in  more  lively,  ever  in 

12 


A  TALE  OF  A   LION   RAMPANT 

more  insidious  colours."    And  then  I  had  a  vision  of 
myself,  and  burst  out  laughing. 

A  likely  thing,  indeed,  that  a  beggar-man,  a  private 
soldier,  a  prisoner  in  a  yellow  travesty,  was  to  awake 
the  interest  of  this  fair  girl!  I  would  not  despair;  but 
I  saw  the  game  must  be  played  fine  and  close.  It  must 
be  my  policy  to  hold  myself  before  her,  always  in  a 
pathetic  or  pleasing  attitude;  never  to  alarm  or  startle 
her;  to  keep  my  own  secret  locked  in  my  bosom  like  a 
story  of  disgrace,  and  let  hers  (if  she  could  be  induced 
to  have  one)  grow  at  its  own  rate;  to  move  just  so  fast, 
and  not  by  a  hair's-breadth  any  faster,  than  the  inclina- 
tion of  her  heart.  I  was  the  man,  and  yet  1  was  passive, 
tied  by  the  foot  in  prison.  I  could  not  go  to  her;  I  must 
cast  a  spell  upon  her  at  each  visit,  so  that  she  should 
return  to  me;  and  this  was  a  matter  of  nice  manage- 
ment. I  had  done  it  the  last  time— it  seemed  impossible 
she  should  not  come  again  after  our  interview;  and  for 
the  next  I  had  speedily  ripened  a  fresh  plan.  A  prisoner, 
if  he  has  one  great  disability  for  a  lover,  has  yet  one 
considerable  advantage :  there  is  nothing  to  distract  him, 
and  he  can  spend  all  his  hours  ripening  his  love  and 
preparing  its  manifestations.  I  had  been  then  some 
days  upon  a  piece  of  carving,  —no  less  than  the  emblem 
of  Scotland,  the  Lion  Rampant.  This  I  proceeded  to 
finish  with  what  skill  I  was  possessed  of;  and  when  at 
last  1  could  do  no  more  to  it  (and,  you  may  be  sure,  was 
already  regretting  I  had  done  so  much),  added  on  the 
base  the  following  dedication :  — 

A  LA  BELLE  FLORA 

LE   PRISONNIER   RECONNAISSANT 

A.  D.  St.  Y.  d.  K. 
1? 


ST.  IVES 

I  put  my  heart  into  the  carving  of  these  letters.  What 
v^as  done  with  so  much  ardour,  it  seemed  scarce  pos- 
sible that  any  should  behold  with  indifference;  and  the 
initials  would  at  least  suggest  to  her  my  noble  birth.  I 
thought  it  better  to  suggest:  I  felt  that  mystery  was 
my  stock-in-trade;  the  contrast  between  my  rank  and 
manners,  between  my  speech  and  my  clothing,  and  the 
fact  that  she  could  only  think  of  me  by  a  combination 
of  letters,  must  all  tend  to  increase  her  interest  and  en- 
gage her  heart. 

This  done,  there  was  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  wait 
and  to  hope.  And  there  is  nothing  further  from  my 
character:  in  love  and  in  war,  I  am  all  for  the  forward 
movement;  and  these  days  of  waiting  made  my  purga- 
tory. It  is  a  fact  that  I  loved  her  a  great  deal  better  at 
the  end  of  them,  for  love  comes,  like  bread,  from  a 
perpetual  rehandling.  And  besides,  I  was  fallen  into  a 
panic  of  fear.  How,  if  she  came  no  more,  how  was  I 
to  continue  to  endure  my  empty  days  ?  how  was  I  to 
fall  back  and  find  my  interest  in  the  major's  lessons,  the 
lieutenant's  chess,  in  a  twopenny  sale  in  the  market,  or 
a  halfpenny  addition  to  the  prison  fare  ? 

Days  went  by,  and  weeks;  I  had  not  the  courage  to 
calculate,  and  to-day  I  have  not  the  courage  to  remem- 
ber; but  at  last  she  was  there.  At  last  1  saw  her  ap- 
proach me  in  the  company  of  a  boy  about  her  own  age, 
and  whom  I  divined  at  once  to  be  her  brother. 

I  rose  and  bowed  in  silence. 

"This  is  my  brother,  Mr.  Ronald  Gilchrist,"  said  she. 
*'  I  have  told  him  of  your  sufferings.  He  is  so  sorry  for 
you!" 

**  It  is  more  than  I  have  the  right  to  ask, "  I  replied ; 


A  TALE  OF  A  LION   RAMPANT 

"but  among  gentlefolk  these  generous  sentiments  are 
natural.  If  your  brother  and  I  were  to  meet  in  the  field, 
we  should  meet  like  tigers ;  but  when  he  sees  me  here 
disarmed  and  helpless,  he  forgets  his  animosity."  (At 
which,  as  I  had  ventured  to  expect,  this  beardless  cham- 
pion coloured  to  the  ears  for  pleasure.)  "Ah,  my  dear 
young  lady,"  I  continued,  "there  are  many  of  your 
countrymen  languishing  in  my  country  even  as  I  do 
here.  I  can  but  hope  there  is  found  some  French  lady 
to  convey  to  each  of  them  the  priceless  consolation  of 
her  sympathy.  You  have  given  me  alms;  and  more 
than  alms— hope;  and  while  you  were  absent  I  was  not 
forgetful.  Suffer  me  to  be  able  to  tell  myself  that  I  have 
at  least  tried  to  make  a  return;  and  for  the  prisoner's 
sake  deign  to  accept  this  trifle." 

So  saying,  I  offered  her  my  lion,  which  she  took, 
looked  at  in  some  embarrassment,  and  then,  catching 
sight  of  the  dedication,  broke  out  with  a  cry.  : 

"Why,  how  did  you  know  my  name?"  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"When  names  are  so  appropriate,  they  should  be 
easily  guessed,"  said  I,  bowing.  "But  indeed  there 
was  no  magic  in  the  matter.  A  lady  called  you  by  name 
on  the  day  I  found  your  handkerchief,  and  I  was  quick 
to  remark  and  cherish  it." 

"It  is  very,  very  beautiful,"  said  she,  "and  I  shall  be 
always  proud  of  the  inscription.  Come,  Ronald,  we 
must  be  going."  She  bowed  to  me  as  a  lady  bows  to 
her  equal,  and  passed  on  (I  could  have  sworn)  with  a 
heightened  colour. 

I  was  overjoyed:  my  innocent  ruse  had  succeeded; 
she  had  taken  my  gift  without  a  hint  of  payment,  and 

15 


ST.  IVES 

she  would  scarce  sleep  in  peace  till  she  had  made  it  up 
to  me.  No  greenhorn  in  matters  of  the  heart,  I  was 
besides  aware  that  I  had  now  a  resident  ambassador  at 
the  court  of  my  lady.  The  lion  might  be  ill  chiselled; 
it  was  mine.  My  hands  had  made  and  held  it;  my 
knife— or,  to  speak  more  by  the  mark,  my  rusty  nail- 
had  traced  those  letters ;  and  simple  as  the  words  were, 
they  would  keep  repeating  to  her  that  I  was  grateful  and 
that  I  found  her  fair.  The  boy  had  looked  like  a  gawky, 
and  blushed  at  a  compliment;  I  could  see  besides  that 
he  regarded  me  with  considerable  suspicion;  yet  he 
made  so  manly  a  figure  of  a  lad,  that  I  could  not  with- 
hold from  him  my  sympathy.  And  as  for  the  impulse 
that  had  made  her  bring  and  introduce  him,  I  could  not 
sufficiently  admire  it.  It  seemed  to  me  finer  than  wit, 
and  more  tender  than  a  caress.  It  said  (plain  as  lan- 
guage), "  I  do  not  and  I  cannot  know  you.  Here  is  my 
brother— you  can  know  him;  this  is  the  way  to  me— 
follow  it." 


ir> 


CHAPTER  II 

A  TALE   OF  A   PAIR   OF  SCISSORS 

I  WAS  Still  plunged  in  these  thoughts  when  the  bell 
was  rung  that  discharged  our  visitors  into  the  street. 
Our  little  market  was  no  sooner  closed  than  we  were 
summoned  to  the  distribution  and  received  our  rations, 
which  we  were  then  allowed  to  eat  according  to  fancy 
in  any  part  of  our  quarters. 

I  have  said  the  conduct  of  some  of  our  visitors  was 
unbearably  offensive;  it  was  possibly  more  so  than  they 
dreamed— as  the  sight-seers  at  a  menagerie  may  offend 
in  a  thousand  ways,  and  quite  without  meaning  it,  the 
noble  and  unfortunate  animals  behind  the  bars;  and 
there  is  no  doubt  but  some  of  my  compatriots  were 
susceptible  beyond  reason.  Some  of  these  old  whis- 
kerandos,  originally  peasants,  trained  since  boyhood  in 
victorious  armies,  and  accustomed  to  move  among  sub- 
ject and  trembling  populations,  could  ill  brook  their 
change  of  circumstance.  There  was  one  man  of  the 
name  of  Goguelat,  a  brute  of  the  first  water,  who  had 
enjoyed  no  touch  of  civilisation  beyond  the  military 
discipline,  and  had  risen  by  an  extreme  heroism  of 
bravery  to  a  grade  for  which  he  was  otherwise  unfitted 
—that  of  mar^chal  des  logis  in  the  22d  of  the  line.     In 


ST.  IVES 

SO  far  as  a  brute  can  be  a  good  soldier,  he  was  a  good 
soldier;  the  cross  was  on  his  breast,  and  gallantly  earned ; 
but  in  all  things  outside  his  line  of  duty  the  man  was 
no  other  than  a  brawling,  bruising,  ignorant  pillar  of 
low  pot-houses.  As  a  gentleman  by  birth  and  a  scholar 
by  taste  and  education,  I  was  the  type  of  all  that  he 
least  understood  and  most  detested ;  and  the  mere  view 
of  our  visitors  would  leave  him  daily  in  a  transport  of 
annoyance,  which  he  would  make  haste  to  wreak  on 
the  nearest  victim,  and  too  often  on  myself. 

It  was  so  now.  Our  rations  were  scarce  served  out, 
and  I  had  just  withdrawn  into  a  corner  of  the  yard, 
when  I  perceived  him  drawing  near.  He  wore  an  air  of 
hateful  mirth;  a  set  of  young  fools,  among  whom  he 
passed  for  a  wit,  followed  him  with  looks  of  expecta- 
tion ;  and  I  saw  I  was  about  to  be  the  object  of  some  of 
his  insufferable  pleasantries.  He  took  a  place  beside  me, 
spread  out  his  rations,  drank  to  me  derisively  from  his 
measure  of  prison  beer,  and  began.  What  he  said  it 
would  be  impossible  to  print;  but  his  admirers,  who 
believed  their  wit  to  have  surpassed  himself,  actually 
rolled  among  the  gravel.  For  my  part,  I  thought  at  first 
I  should  have  died.  I  had  not  dreamed  the  wretch  was 
so  observant;  but  hate  sharpens  the  ears,  and  he  had 
counted  our  interviews  and  actually  knew  Flora  by  her 
name.  Gradually  my  coolness  returned  to  me,  accom- 
panied by  a  volume  of  living  anger  that  surprised  myself. 

"  Are  you  nearly  done  ?  "  1  asked.  "  Because  if  you 
are,  I  am  about  to  say  a  word  or  two  myself." 

"  O,  fair  play!  "  said  he.  "  Turn  about!  The  Mar- 
quis of  Carabas  to  the  tribune." 

"Very  well,"  said  I.    "I  have  to  inform  you  that  I 

18 


A  TALE  OF  A   PAIR  OF  SCISSORS 

am  a  gentleman.  You  do  not  know  what  that  means, 
hey?  Well,  I  will  tell  you.  It  is  a  comical  sort  of 
animal;  springs  from  another  strange  set  of  creatures 
they  call  ancestors ;  and  in  common  with  toads  and  other 
vermin,  has  a  thing  that  he  calls  feelings.  The  lion  is 
a  gentleman ;  he  will  not  touch  carrion.  I  am  a  gentle- 
man, and  I  cannot  bear  to  soil  my  fingers  with  such  a 
lump  of  dirt.  Sit  still,  Philippe  Goguelat!  sit  still  and 
do  not  say  a  word,  or  I  shall  know  you  are  a  coward; 
the  eyes  of  our  guards  are  upon  us.  Here  is  your 
health ! "  said  I,  and  pledged  him  in  the  prison  beer. 
"You  have  chosen  to  speak  in  a  certain  way  of  a  young 
child,"  I  continued,  **  who  might  be  your  daughter,  and 
who  was  giving  alms  to  me  and  some  others  of  us 
mendicants.  If  the  Emperor  " —  saluting—  "if  my  Em- 
peror could  hear  you,  he  would  pluck  off  the  cross  from 
your  gross  body.  I  cannot  do  that;  I  cannot  take  away 
what  his  Majesty  has  given;  but  one  thing  I  promise 
you  —  I  promise  you,  Goguelat,  you  shall  be  dead  to- 
night." 

I  had  borne  so  much  from  him  in  the  past,  I  believe  he 
thought  there  was  no  end  to  my  forbearance,  and  he 
was  at  first  amazed.  But  I  have  the  pleasure  to  think 
that  some  of  my  expressions  had  pierced  through  his 
thick  hide;  and  besides,  the  brute  was  truly  a  hero  of 
valour,  and  loved  fighting  for  itself.  Whatever  the 
cause,  at  least,  he  had  soon  pulled  himself  together,  and 
took  the  thing  (to  do  him  justice)  handsomely. 

"And  I  promise  you,  by  the  devil's  horns,  that  you 
shall  have  the  chance!  "said  he,  and  pledged  me  again; 
and  again  I  did  him  scrupulous  honour. 

The  news  of  this  defiance  spread  from  prisoner  to 

19 


ST.  IVES 

prisoner  with  the  speed  of  wings;  every  face  was  seen 
to  be  illuminated  like  those  of  the  spectators  at  a  horse- 
race; and  indeed  you  must  first  have  tasted  the  active 
life  of  a  soldier,  and  then  mouldered  for  a  while  in  the 
tedium  of  a  jail,  in  order  to  understand,  perhaps  even 
to  excuse,  the  delight  of  our  companions.  Goguelat 
and  I  slept  in  the  same  squad,  which  greatly  simplified 
the  business;  and  a  committee  of  honour  was  accord- 
ingly formed  of  our  shed-mates.  They  chose  for  presi- 
dent a  sergeant-major  in  the  4th  Dragoons,  a  greybeard 
of  the  army,  an  excellent  military  subject,  and  a  good 
man.  He  took  the  most  serious  view  of  his  functions, 
visited  us  both,  and  reported  our  replies  to  the  com- 
mittee. Mine  was  of  a  decent  firmness.  I  told  him  the 
young  lady  of  whom  Goguelat  had  spoken  had  on  sev- 
eral occasions  given  me  alms.  I  reminded  him  that,  if 
we  were  now  reduced  to  hold  out  our  hands  and  sell 
pill-boxes  for  charity,  it  was  something  very  new  for 
soldiers  of  the  Empire.  We  had  all  seen  bandits  stand- 
ing at  a  corner  of  a  wood  truckling  for  copper  halfpence, 
and  after  their  benefactors  were  gone  spitting  out  injuries 
and  curses.  "  But,"  said  I,  "  I  trust  that  none  of  us  will 
fall  so  low.  As  a  Frenchman  and  a  soldier,  I  owe  that 
young  child  gratitude,  and  am  bound  to  protect  her 
character,  and  to  support  that  of  the  army.  You  are  my 
elder  and  my  superior:  tell  me  if  I  am  not  right." 

He  was  a  quiet-mannered  old  fellow,  and  patted  me 
with  three  fingers  on  the  back.  "  Cest  Men,  mon  en- 
fant,'* says  he,  and  returned  to  his  committee. 

Goguelat  was  no  more  accommodating  than  myself. 
*'  I  do  not  like  apologies  nor  those  that  make  them," 
was  his  only  answer.     And  there  remained  nothing  but 


A  TALE  OF  A   PAIR  OF  SCISSORS 

to  arrange  the  details  of  the  meeting.  So  far  as  regards 
place  and  time,  we  had  no  choice;  we  must  settle  the 
dispute  at  night,  in  the  dark,  after  a  round  had  passed 
by,  and  in  the  open  middle  of  the  shed  under  which  we 
slept.  The  question  of  arms  was  more  obscure.  We 
had  a  good  many  tools,  indeed,  which  we  employed  in 
the  manufacture  of  our  toys;  but  they  were  none  of 
them  suited  for  a  single  combat  between  civilised  men, 
and,  being  nondescript,  it  was  found  extremely  hard  to 
equalise  the  chances  of  the  combatants.  At  length  a 
pair  of  scissors  was  unscrewed ;  and  a  couple  of  tough 
wands  being  found  in  a  corner  of  the  courtyard,  one 
blade  of  the  scissors  was  lashed  solidly  to  each  with 
resined  twine— the  twine  coming  I  know  not  whence, 
but  the  resin  from  the  green  pillars  of  the  shed,  which 
still  sweated  from  the  axe.  It  was  a  strange  thing  to 
feel  in  one's  hand  this  weapon,  which  was  no  heavier 
than  a  riding-rod,  and  which  it  was  difficult  to  suppose 
would  prove  more  dangerous.  A  general  oath  was  ad- 
ministered and  taken,  that  no  one  should  interfere  in 
the  duel  nor  (suppose  it  to  result  seriously)  betray 
the  name  of  the  survivor.  And  with  that,  all  being 
then  ready,  we  composed  ourselves  to  await  the  mo- 
ment. 

The  evening  fell  cloudy;  not  a  star  was  to  be  seen 
when  the  first  round  of  the  night  passed  through  our 
shed  and  wound  off  along  the  ramparts ;  and  as  we  took 
our  places,  we  could  still  hear,  over  the  murmurs  of  the 
surrounding  city,  the  sentries  challenging  its  further 
passage.  Laclas,  the  sergeant-major,  set  us  in  our 
stations,  engaged  our  wands,  and  left  us.  To  avoid 
blood-stained  clothing,  my  adversary  and  I  had  stripped 


ST.  IVES 

to  the  shoes;  and  the  chill  of  the  night  enveloped  our 
bodies  like  a  wet  sheet.  The  man  was  better  at  fencing 
than  myself;  he  was  vastly  taller  than  I,  being  of  a 
stature  almost  gigantic,  and  proportionately  strong.  In 
the  inky  blackness  of  the  shed,  it  was  impossible  to  see 
his  eyes;  and  from  the  suppleness  of  the  wands,  I  did 
not  like  to  trust  to  a  parade.  I  made  up  my  mind  ac- 
cordingly to  profit,  if  I  might,  by  my  defect;  and  as  soon 
as  the  signal  should  be  given,  to  throw  myself  down 
and  lunge  at  the  same  moment.  It  was  to  play  my  life 
upon  one  card:  should  I  not  mortally  wound  him,  no 
defence  would  be  left  me;  what  was  yet  more  appalling, 
I  thus  ran  the  risk  of  bringing  my  own  face  against  his 
scissor  with  the  double  force  of  our  assaults,  and  my 
face  and  eyes  are  not  that  part  of  me  that  J  would  the 
most  readily  expose. 

''Alle^  !  "  said  the  sergeant-major. 

Both  lunged  in  the  same  moment  with  an  equal  fury, 
and  but  for  my  manoeuvre  both  had  certainly  been 
spitted.  As  it  was,  he  did  no  more  than  strike  my 
shoulder,  while  my  scissor  plunged  below  the  girdle 
into  a  mortal  part;  and  that  great  bulk  of  a  man,  falling 
from  his  whole  height,  knocked  me  immediately  sense- 
less. 

When  I  came  to  myself,  I  was  laid  in  my  own  sleep- 
ing-place, and  could  make  out  in  the  darkness  the  outline 
of  perhaps  a  dozen  heads  crowded  around  me.  I  sat  up. 
"  What  is  it  ?  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Hush !  "  said  the  sergeant-major.  "  Blessed  be  God, 
all  is  well."  I  felt  him  clasp  my  hand,  and  there  were 
tears  in  his  voice.     "  'Tis  but  a  scratch,  my  child;  here 

aa 


A  TALE  OF  A   PAIR  OF  SCISSORS 

is  papa,  who  is  taking  good  care  of  you.  Your  shoulder 
is  bound  up ;  we  have  dressed  you  in  your  clothes  again, 
and  it  will  all  be  well." 

At  this  I  began  to  remember.  "  And  Goguelat  ?  "  I 
gasped. 

"  He  cannot  bear  to  be  moved;  he  has  his  bellyful;  'tis 
a  bad  business,"  said  the  sergeant-major. 

The  idea  of  having  killed  a  man  with  such  an  instru- 
ment as  half  a  pair  of  scissors  seemed  to  turn  my  stomach. 
I  am  sure  I  might  have  killed  a  dozen  with  a  firelock, 
a  sabre,  a  bayonet,  or  any  accepted  weapon,  and  been 
visited  by  no  such  sickness  of  remorse.  And  to  this 
feeling  every  unusual  circumstance  of  our  rencounter, 
the  darkness  in  which  we  had  fought,  our  nakedness, 
even  the  resin  on  the  twine,  appeared  to  contribute.  I 
ran  to  my  fallen  adversary,  kneeled  by  him,  and  could 
only  sob  his  name. 

He  bade  me  compose  myself.  "  You  have  given  me 
the  key  of  the  fields,  comrade,"  said  he.  "Sans  ran- 
cune I " 

At  this  my  horror  redoubled.  Here  had  we  two  ex- 
patriated Frenchmen  engaged  in  an  ill-regulated  combat 
like  the  battles  of  beasts.  Here  was  he,  who  had  been 
all  his  life  so  great  a  ruffian,  dying  in  a  foreign  land  of 
this  ignoble  injury,  and  meeting  death  with  something 
of  the  spirit  of  a  Bayard.  I  insisted  that  the  guards 
should  be  summoned  and  a  doctor  brought.  "  It  may 
still  be  possible  to  save  him,"  I  cried. 

The  sergeant-major  reminded  me  of  our  engagement. 
"If  you  had  been  wounded,"  said  he,  "you  must 
have  Iain  there  till  the  patrol  came  by  and  found  you. 

33 


ST.  IVES 

It  happens  to  be  Goguelat— and  so  must  he!  Come, 
child,  time  to  go  to  bye-bye."  And  as  I  still  resisted, 
*'  Champdivers !  "  he  said,  "  this  is  weakness.  You  pain 
me." 

"Ay,  off  to  your  beds  with  you!  "  said  Goguelat,  and 
named  us  in  a  company  with  one  of  his  jovial  gross 
epithets. 

Accordingly  the  squad  lay  down  in  the  dark  and  sim- 
ulated, what  they  certainly  were  far  from  experiencing, 
sleep.  It  was  not  yet  late.  The  city,  from  far  below 
and  all  around  us,  sent  up  a  sound  of  wheels  and  feet 
and  lively  voices.  Yet  awhile,  and  the  curtain  of  the 
cloud  was  rent  across,  and  in  the  space  of  sky  between 
the  eaves  of  the  shed  and  the  irregular  outline  of  the 
ramparts  a  multitude  of  stars  appeared.  Meantime,  in 
the  midst  of  us  lay  Goguelat,  and  could  not  always  with- 
hold himself  from  groaning. 

We  heard  the  round  far  off;  heard  it  draw  slowly 
nearer.  Last  of  all,  it  turned  the  corner  and  moved  into 
our  field  of  vision:  two  file  of  men  and  a  corporal  with 
a  lantern,  which  he  swung  to  and  fro,  so  as  to  cast  its 
light  in  the  recesses  of  the  yards  and  sheds. 

"  Hullo! "  cried  the  corporal,  pausing  as  he  came  by 
Goguelat. 

He  stooped  with  his  lantern.  All  our  hearts  were 
flying. 

"  What  devil's  work  is  this  ?  "  he  cried,  and  with  a 
startling  voice  summoned  the  guard. 

We  were  all  afoot  upon  the  instant;  more  lanterns 
and  soldiers  crowded  in  front  of  the  shed;  an  officer 
elbowed  his  way  in.  In  the  midst  was  the  big  naked 
body,  soiled  with  blood.    Some  one  had  covered  him 

24 


A  TALE  OF  A  PAIR  OF  SCISSORS 

with  his  blanket;  but  as  he  lay  there  in  agony,  he  had 
partly  thrown  it  off. 

"This  is  murder!"  cried  the  officer.  "You  wild 
beasts,  you  will  hear  of  this  to-morrow." 

As  Goguelat  was  raised  and  laid  upon  a  stretcher,  he 
cried  to  us  a  cheerful  and  blasphemous  farewell. 


CHAPTER   III 

MAIOR   CHEVENIX   COMES   INTO   THE  STORY,   AND 
GOGUELAT   GOES   OUT 

There  was  never  any  talk  of  a  recovery,  and  no  time 
was  lost  in  getting  the  man's  deposition.  He  gave  but 
the  one  account  of  it:  that  he  had  committed  suicide 
because  he  was  sick  of  seeing  so  many  Englishmen. 
The  doctor  vowed  it  was  impossible,  the  nature  and 
direction  of  the  wound  forbidding  it.  Goguelat  replied 
that  he  was  more  ingenious  than  the  other  thought  for, 
and  had  propped  up  the  weapon  in  the  ground  and  fallen 
on  the  point— "just  like  Nebuchadnezzar,"  he  added, 
winking  to  the  assistants.  The  doctor,  who  was  a  little, 
spruce,  ruddy  man  of  an  impatient  temper,  pished  and 
pshawed  and  swore  over  his  patient.  "  Nothing  to  be 
made  of  him!"  he  cried.  "A  perfect  heathen.  If  we 
could  only  find  the  weapon!"  But  the  weapon  had 
ceased  to  exist.  A  little  resined  twine  was  perhaps 
blowing  about  in  the  castle  gutters ;  some  bits  of  broken 
stick  may  have  trailed  in  corners;  and  behold,  in  the 
pleasant  air  of  the  morning,  a  dandy  prisoner  trimming 
his  nails  with  a  pair  of  scissors! 

Finding  the  wounded  man  so  firm,  you  may  be  sure 
the  authorities  did  not  leave  the  rest  of  us  in  peace.  No 
stone  was  left  unturned.     We  were  had  in  again  and 

26 


MAJOR   CHEVENIX  COMES   INTO  THE  STORY 

again  to  be  examined,  now  singly,  now  in  twos  and 
threes.  We  were  threatened  with  all  sorts  of  impossible 
severities  and  tempted  with  all  manner  of  improbable 
rewards.  I  suppose  I  was  five  times  interrogated,  and 
came  off  from  each  with  flying  colours.  I  am  like  old 
Souvaroff,  I  cannot  understand  a  soldier  being  taken 
aback  by  any  question ;  he  should  answer  as  he  marches 
on  the  fire  with  an  instant  briskness  and  gaiety.  I  may 
have  been  short  of  bread,  gold,  or  grace;  I  was  never 
yet  found  wanting  in  an  answer.  My  comrades,  if  they 
were  not  all  so  ready,  were  none  of  them  less  staunch ; 
and  I  may  say  here  at  once  that  the  inquiry  came  to 
nothing  at  the  time,  and  the  death  of  Goguelat  remained 
a  mystery  of  the  prison.  Such  were  the  veterans  of 
France!  And  yet  I  should  be  disingenuous  if  I  did  not 
own  this  was  a  case  apart;  in  ordinary  circumstances, 
some  one  might  have  stumbled  or  been  intimidated  into 
an  admission ;  and  what  bound  us  together  with  a  close- 
ness beyond  that  of  mere  comrades  was  a  secret  to  which 
we  were  all  committed  and  a  design  in  which  all  were 
equally  engaged.  No  need  to  inquire  as  to  its  nature: 
there  is  only  one  desire,  and  only  one  kind  of  design, 
that  blooms  in  prisons.  And  the  fact  that  our  tunnel 
was  near  done  supported  and  inspired  us. 

I  came  off  in  public,  as  I  have  said,  with  flying  colours ; 
the  sittings  of  the  court  of  inquiry  died  away  like  a  tune 
that  no  one  listens  to ;  and  yet  I  was  unmasked— I,  whom 
my  very  adversary  defended,  as  good  as  confessed,  as 
good  as  told  the  nature  of  the  quarrel,  and  by  so  doing 
prepared  for  myself  in  the  future  a  most  anxious,  dis- 
agreeable adventure.  It  was  the  third  morning  after  the 
duel,  and  Goguelat  was  still  in  life,  when  the  time  came 

27 


ST.  IVES 

round  for  me  to  give  Major  Chevenix  a  lesson.  I  was 
fond  of  this  occupation;  not  that  he  paid  me  much— no 
more,  indeed,  than  eighteenpence  a  month,  the  custom- 
ary figure,  being  a  miser  in  the  grain ;  but  because  I  liked 
his  breakfasts  and  (to  some  extent)  himself.  At  least, 
he  was  a  man  of  education;  and  of  the  others  with 
whom  I  had  any  opportunity  of  speech,  those  that 
would  not  have  held  a  book  upside  down  would  have 
torn  the  pages  out  for  pipelights.  For  I  must  repeat 
again  that  our  body  of  prisoners  was  exceptional :  there 
was  in  Edinburgh  Castle  none  of  that  educational  busy- 
ness that  distinguished  some  of  the  other  prisons,  so 
that  men  entered  them  unable  to  read,  and  left  them  fit 
for  high  employments.  Chevenix  was  handsome,  and 
surprisingly  young  to  be  a  major:  six  feet  in  his  stock- 
ings, well  set  up,  with  regular  features  and  very  clear 
grey  eyes.  It  was  impossible  to  pick  a  fault  in  him,  and 
yet  the  sum-total  was  displeasing.  Perhaps  he  was  too 
clean;  he  seemed  to  bear  about  with  him  the  smell  of 
soap.  Cleanliness  is  good,  but  I  cannot  bear  a  man's 
nails  to  seem  japanned.  And  certainly  he  was  too  self- 
possessed  and  cold.  There  was  none  of  the  fire  of 
youth,  none  of  the  swiftness  of  the  soldier,  in  this  young 
officer.  His  kindness  was  cold,  and  cruel  cold;  his  de- 
liberation exasperating.  And  perhaps  it  was  from  this 
character,  which  is  very  much  the  opposite  of  my  own, 
that  even  in  these  days,  when  he  was  of  service  to  me, 
I  approached  him  with  suspicion  and  reserve. 

I  looked  over  his  exercise  in  the  usual  form,  and 
marked  six  faults. 

"H'm.     Six,"  says  he,  looking  at  the  paper.     "Very 
annoying!     I  can  never  get  it  right." 

28 


MAJOR  CHEVENIX  COMES   INTO  THE  STORY 

"O,  but  you  make  excellent  progress!  "  I  said.  I 
would  not  discourage  him,  you  understand,  but  he  was 
congenitally  unable  to  learn  French.  Some  fire,  I  think, 
is  needful,  and  he  had  quenched  his  fire  in  soapsuds. 

He  put  the  exercise  down,  leaned  his  chin  upon  his 
hand,  and  looked  at  me  with  clear,  severe  eyes. 

"  I  think  we  must  have  a  little  talk,"  said  he. 

"I  am  entirely  at  your  disposition,"  I  replied;  but  I 
quaked,  for  1  knew  what  subject  to  expect. 

"  You  have  been  some  time  giving  me  these  lessons," 
he  went  on,  "  and  I  am  tempted  to  think  rather  well  of 
you.     I  believe  you  are  a  gentleman." 

"  I  have  that  honour,  sir,"  said  I. 

"  You  have  seen  me  for  the  same  period.  I  do  not 
know  how  I  strike  you;  but  perhaps  you  will  be  pre- 
pared to  believe  that  I  also  am  a  man  of  honour,"  said 
he. 

"  I  require  no  assurances;  the  thing  is  manifest,"  and 
I  bowed. 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  he.  "What  about  this 
Goguelat  ?  " 

"  You  heard  me  yesterday  before  the  court,"  I  began. 
"  I  was  awakened  only—" 

"O  yes;  1  'heard  you  yesterday  before  the  court,'  no 
doubt,"  he  interrupted,  "and  1  remember  perfectly  that 
you  were  *  awakened  only.'  I  could  repeat  the  most  of 
it  by  rote,  indeed.  But  do  you  suppose  that  I  believed 
you  for  a  m.oment  ?  " 

"  Neither  would  you  believe  me  if  I  were  to  repeat  it 
here,"  said  I. 

"  I  may  be  wrong— we  shall  soon  see,"  says  he;  "  but 
my  impression  is  that  you  will  not '  repeat  it  here.*    My 

29 


ST.  IVES 

impression  is  that  you  have  come  into  this  room,  and 
that  you  will  tell  me  something  before  you  go  out" 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"  Let  me  explain,"  he  continued.  "  Your  evidence,  of 
course,  is  nonsense.  I  put  it  by,  and  the  court  put  it 
by." 

**  My  compliments  and  thanks!  "  said  I. 

"  You  must  know— that's  the  short  and  the  long,"  he 
proceeded.  "  All  of  you  in  Shed  B  are  bound  to  know. 
And  I  want  to  ask  you  where  is  the  common  sense  of 
keeping  up  this  farce,  and  maintaining  this  cock-and-bull 
story  between  friends.  Come,  come,  my  good  fellow, 
own  yourself  beaten,  and  laugh  at  it  yourself." 

"  Well,  I  hear  you  go  ahead,"  said  I.  "  You  put  your 
heart  in  it." 

He  crossed  his  legs  slowly.  "  I  can  very  well  under- 
stand," he  began,  "that  precautions  have  had  to  be 
taken.  I  dare  say  an  oath  was  administered.  I  can 
comprehend  that  perfectly."  (He  was  watching  me  all 
the  time  with  his  cold,  bright  eyes.)  "  And  I  can  com- 
prehend that,  about  an  affair  of  honour,  you  would  be 
very  particular  to  keep  it." 

"  About  an  affair  of  honour  ?  "  I  repeated,  like  a  man 
quite  puzzled. 

"  It  was  not  an  affair  of  honour,  then  }  "  he  asked. 

"  What  was  not  ?     I  do  not  follow,"  said  I. 

He  gave  no  sign  of  impatience;  simply  sat  awhile  si- 
lent, and  began  again  in  the  same  placid  and  good-natured 
voice :  "  The  court  and  I  were  at  one  in  setting  aside  your 
evidence.  It  could  not  deceive  a  child.  But  there  was 
a  difference  between  myself  and  the  other  officers,  be- 
cause /  knew  my  man  and  they  did  not.     They  saw  in 

30 


MAJOR  CHEVENIX  COMES    INTO  THE  STORY 

you  a  common  soldier,  and  I  knew  you  for  a  gentleman. 
To  them  your  evidence  was  a  leash  of  lies,  which  they 
yawned  to  hear  you  telling.  Now,  I  was  asking  myself, 
how  far  will  a  gentleman  go  ?  Not  surely  so  far  as  to 
help  hush  a  murder  up  ?  So  that— when  I  heard  you 
tell  how  you  knew  nothing  of  the  matter,  and  were  only 
awakened  by  the  corporal,  and  all  the  rest  of  it— I  trans- 
lated your  statements  into  something  else.  Now, 
Champdivers,"  he  cried,  springing  up  lively  and  coming 
towards  me  with  animation,  "  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
what  that  was,  and  you  are  going  to  help  me  to  see 
justice  done :  how,  I  don't  know,  for  of  course  you  are 
under  oath— but  somehow.  Mark  what  I'm  going  to 
say." 

At  that  moment  he  laid  a  heavy,  hard  grip  upon  my 
shoulder;  and  whether  he  said  anything  more  or  came 
to  a  full  stop  at  once,  I  am  sure  I  could  not  tell  you  to 
this  day.  For,  as  the  devil  would  have  it,  the  shoulder 
he  laid  hold  of  was  the  one  Goguelat  had  pinked.  The 
wound  was  but  a  scratch ;  it  was  healing  with  the  first 
intention;  but  in  the  clutch  of  Major  Chevenix  it  gave 
me  agony.  My  head  swam;  the  sweat  poured  off  my 
face ;  I  must  have  grown  deadly  pale. 

He  removed  his  hand  as  suddenly  as  he  had  laid  it 
there. 

"  What  is  wrong  with  you  ?  "  said  he. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  said  I.     "  A  qualm.     It  has  gone  by." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  "  said  he.  "  You  are  as  white  as  a 
sheet." 

"  O  no,  I  assure  you !  Nothing  whatever.  I  am  my 
own  man  again,"  I  said,  though  I  could  scarce  command 
my  tongue. 

3« 


ST.  IVES 

"Well,  shall  I  go  on  again?"  says  he.  "Can  you 
follow  me  ?  " 

"  O,  by  all  means!  "  said  I,  and  mopped  my  streaming 
face  upon  my  sleeve,  for  you  may  be  sure  in  those  days 
I  had  no  handkerchief. 

"  If  you  are  sure  you  can  follow  me.  That  was  a  very 
sudden  and  sharp  seizure,"  he  said  doubtfully.  "But 
if  you  are  sure,  all  right,  and  here  goes.  An  affair  of 
honour  among  you  fellows  would  naturally  be  a  little 
difficult  to  carry  out,  perhaps  it  would  be  impossible  to 
have  it  wholly  regular.  And  yet  a  duel  might  be  very 
irregular  in  form,  and,  under  the  peculiar  circumstances 
of  the  case,  loyal  enough  in  effect.  Do  you  take  me  ? 
Now,  as  a  gentleman  and  a  soldier." 

His  hand  rose  again  at  the  words  and  hovered  over 
me.     1  could  bear  no  more,  and  winced  away  from  him. 

"  No, "  1  cried,  "  not  that.  Do  not  put  your  hand  upon 
my  shoulder.  I  cannot  bear  it.  It  is  rheumatism,"  I 
made  haste  to  add.  "  My  shoulder  is  inflamed  and  very 
painful." 

He  returned  to  his  chair  and  deliberately  lighted  a  cigar. 

"I  am  sorry  about  your  shoulder,"  he  said  at  last. 
"  Let  me  send  for  the  doctor." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  1.  "  It  is  a  trifle.  I  am  quite 
used  to  it.  It  does  not  trouble  me  in  the  smallest.  At 
any  rate,  1  don't  believe  in  doctors." 

**A11  right,"  said  he,  and  sat  and  smoked  a  good 
while  in  a  silence  which  I  would  have  given  anything 
to  break.  "  Well,"  he  began  presently,  "  I  believe  there 
is  nothing  left  for  me  to  learn.  I  presume  I  may  say 
that  I  know  all." 

"  About  what  ?  "  said  I  boldly. 

32 


MAJOR  CHEVENIX  COMES   INTO  THE  STORY 

"About  Goguelat,"  said  he. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.     I  cannot  conceive,"  said  I. 

" O,"  says  the  major,  "the  man  fell  in  a  duel,  and  by 
your  hand!     I  am  not  an  infant." 

"  By  no  means,"  said  I.  "  But  you  seem  to  me  to  be 
a  good  deal  of  a  theorist." 

"  Shall  we  test  it  ?  "  he  asked.  "  The  doctor  is  close 
by.  If  there  is  not  an  open  wound  on  your  shoulder,  I 
am  wrong.  If  there  is—"  He  waved  his  hand.  "But 
I  advise  you  to  think  twice.  There  is  a  deuce  of  a  nasty 
drawback  to  the  experiment— that  what  might  have  re 
mained  private  between  us  two  becomes  public  prop- 
erty." 

"O,  well!"  said  I,  with  a  laugh,  "anything  rather 
than  a  doctor!     I  cannot  bear  the  breed." 

His  last  words  had  a  good  deal  relieved  me,  but  I  was 
still  far  from  comfortable. 

Major  Chevenix  smoked  awhile,  looking  now  at  his 
cigar  ash,  now  at  me.  "  I'm  a  soldier  myself,"  he  says 
presently,  "  and  I've  been  out  in  my  time  and  hit  my 
man.  I  don't  want  to  run  any  one  into  a  corner  for  an 
affair  that  was  at  all  necessary  or  correct.  At  the  same 
time,  I  want  to  know  that  much,  and  I'll  take  your  word 
of  honour  for  it.  Otherwise,  I  shall  be  very  sorry,  but 
the  doctor  must  be  called  in." 

"I  neither  admit  anything  nor  deny  anything,"  I  re- 
turned. "  But  if  this  form  of  words  will  suffice  you, 
here  is  what  I  say :  I  give  you  my  parole,  as  a  gentleman 
and  a  soldier,  there  has  nothing  taken  place  amongst  us 
prisoners  that  was  not  honourable  as  the  day." 

"  All  right,"  says  he.  "  That  was  all  I  wanted.  You 
can  go  now,  Champdivers." 

33 


ST.  IVES 

And  as  I  was  going  out  he  added,  with  a  laugh :  "  By- 
the-bye,  I  ought  to  apologise:  I  had  no  idea  I  was  ap- 
plying the  torture! " 

The  same  afternoon  the  doctor  came  into  the  courtyard 
with  a  piece  of  paper  in  his  hand.  He  seemed  hot  and 
angry,  and  had  certainly  no  mind  to  be  polite. 

"Here!"  he  cried.  "Which  of  you  fellows  knows 
any  English  ?  O !  "—spying  me—"  there  you  are,  what's 
your  name!  You'll  do.  Tell  these  fellows  that  the 
other  fellow's  dying.  He's  booked;  no  use  talking;  I 
expect  he'll  go  by  evening.  And  tell  them  I  don't  envy 
the  feelings  of  the  fellow  who  spiked  him.  Tell  them 
that  first." 

I  did  so. 

"  Then  you  can  tell  'em, "  he  resumed, "  that  the  fellow, 
Goggle— what's  his  name  ?— wants  to  see  some  of  them 
before  he  gets  his  marching  orders.  If  I  got  it  right, 
he  wants  to  kiss  or  embrace  you,  or  some  sickening 
stuff.  Got  that  ?  Then  here's  a  list  he's  had  written, 
and  you'd  better  read  it  out  to  them— I  can't  make  head 
or  tail  of  your  beastly  names— and  they  can  answer 
present,  and  fall  in  against  that  wall." 

It  was  with  a  singular  movement  of  incongruous 
feelings  that  I  read  the  first  name  on  the  list.  I  had  no 
wish  to  look  again  on  my  own  handiwork;  my  flesh 
recoiled  from  the  idea;  and  how  could  I  be  sure  what 
reception  he  designed  to  give  me  ?  The  cure  was  in 
my  own  hand;  I  could  pass  that  first  name  over— the 
doctor  would  not  know— and  I  might  stay  away.  But 
to  the  subsequent  great  gladness  of  my  heart,  I  did 
not  dwell  for  an  instant  on  the  thought,  walked  over  to 
the  designated  wall,  faced  about,  read  out  the  name 

34 


MAJOR  CHEVENIX  COMES  INTO  THE  STORY 

"Champdivers,"  and  answered  myself  with  the  word 
"Present." 

There  were  some  half-dozen  on  the  list,  all  told ;  and 
as  soon  as  we  were  mustered,  the  doctor  led  the  way 
to  the  hospital,  and  we  followed  after,  like  a  fatigue 
party,  in  single  file.  At  the  door  he  paused,  told  us 
"  the  fellow  "  would  see  each  of  us  alone,  and,  as  soon 
as  1  had  explained  that,  sent  me  by  myself  into  the  ward. 
It  was  a  small  room,  whitewashed;  a  south  window 
stood  open  on  a  vast  depth  of  air  and  a  spacious  and 
distant  prospect;  and  from  deep  below,  in  the  Grass- 
market,  the  voices  of  hawkers  came  up  clear  and  far 
away.  Hard  by,  on  a  little  bed,  lay  Goguelat.  The 
sunburn  had  not  yet  faded  from  his  face,  and  the  stamp 
of  death  was  already  there.  There  was  something  wild 
and  unmannish  in  his  smile,  that  took  me  by  the  throat; 
only  death  and  love  know  or  have  ever  seen  it.  And 
when  he  spoke,  it  seemed  to  shame  his  coarse  talk. 

He  held  out  his  arms  as  if  to  embrace  me.  I  drew 
near  with  incredible  shrinkings,  and  surrendered  myself 
to  his  arms  with  overwhelming  disgust.  But  he  only 
drew  my  ear  down  to  his  lips. 

"Trust  me,"  he  whispered.  '' Je  suis  bon  bougre, 
mot.     I'll  take  it  to  hell  with  me,  and  tell  the  devil." 

Why  should  I  go  on  to  reproduce  his  grossness  and 
trivialities  ?  All  that  he  thought,  at  that  hour,  was  even 
noble,  though  he  could  not  clothe  it  otherwise  than  in 
the  language  of  a  brutal  farce.  Presently  he  bade  me 
call  the  doctor;  and  when  that  officer  had  come  in,  raised 
a  little  up  in  his  bed,  pointed  first  to  himself  and  then 
to  me,  who  stood  weeping  by  his  side,  and  several  times 
repeated  the  expression,  "  Frinds— frinds— dam  f rinds." 

35 


ST.  IVES 

To  my  great  surprise,  the  doctor  appeared  very  much 
affected.  He  nodded  his  little  bob-wigged  head  at 
us,  and  said  repeatedly,  "All  right,  Johnny— me  com- 
prong." 

Then  Goguelat  shook  hands  with  me,  embraced  me 
again,  and  I  went  out  of  the  room  sobbing  like  an  in- 
fant. 

How  often  have  I  not  seen  it,  that  the  most  unpar- 
donable fellows  make  the  happiest  exits!  It  is  a  fate 
we  may  well  envy  them.  Goguelat  was  detested  in  life ; 
in  the  last  three  days,  by  his  admirable  staunchness  and 
consideration,  he  won  every  heart;  and  when  word 
went  about  the  prison  the  same  evening  that  he  was  no 
more,  the  voice  of  conversation  became  hushed  as  in  a 
house  of  mourning. 

For  myself  I  was  like  a  man  distracted ;  I  cannot  think 
what  ailed  me :  when  I  awoke  the  following  day,  noth- 
ing remained  of  it;  but  that  night  I  was  filled  with  a 
gloomy  fury  of  the  nerves.  I  had  killed  him;  he  had 
done  his  utmost  to  protect  me;  I  had  seen  him  with  that 
awful  smile.  And  so  illogical  and  useless  is  this  senti- 
ment of  remorse,  that  I  was  ready,  at  a  word  or  a  look, 
to  quarrel  with  somebody  else.  I  presume  the  disposi- 
tion of  my  mind  was  imprinted  on  my  face;  and  when, 
a  little  after,  I  overtook,  saluted,  and  addressed  the 
doctor,  he  looked  on  me  with  commiseration  and  sur- 
prise. 

I  had  asked  him  if  it  was  true. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "the  fellow's  gone." 

"  Did  he  suffer  much  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Devil  a  bit;  passed  away  like  a  Iamb,"  said  he.  He 
looked  on  me  a  little,  and  I  saw  his  hand  go  to  his  fob. 

36 


MAJOR  CHEVENIX  COMES  INTO  THE  STORY 

"Here,  take  that!  no  sense  in  fretting,"  he  said,  and, 
putting  a  silver  twopenny-bit  in  my  hand,  he  left  me. 

I  should  have  had  that  twopenny  framed  to  hang  upon 
the  wall,  for  it  was  the  man's  one  act  of  charity  in  all 
my  knowledge  of  him.  Instead  of  that,  I  stood  looking 
at  it  in  my  hand  and  laughed  out  bitterly,  as  I  realised 
his  mistake;  then  went  to  the  ramparts,  and  flung  it  far 
into  the  air  like  blood  money.  The  night  was  falling; 
through  an  embrasure  and  across  the  gardened  valley  I 
saw  the  lamplighters  hasting  along  Princes  Street  with 
ladder  and  lamp,  and  looked  on  moodily.  As  I  was  so 
standing  a  hand  was  laid  upon  my  shoulder,  and  I  turned 
about.  It  was  Major  Chevenix,  dressed  for  the  evening, 
and  his  neckcloth  really  admirably  folded.  I  never  de- 
nied the  man  could  dress. 

"  Ah!  "  said  he,  "  1  thought  it  was  you,  Champdivers. 
So  he's  gone  ?  " 

I  nodded. 

"Come,  come,"  said  he,  "you  must  cheer  up.  Of 
course  it's  very  distressing,  very  painful,  and  all  that. 
But  do  you  know,  it  ain't  such  a  bad  thing  either  for 
you  or  me  ?  What  with  his  death  and  your  visit  to  him 
I  am  entirely  reassured." 

So  1  was  to  owe  my  life  to  Goguelat  at  every  point. 

"  I  had  rather  not  discuss  it,"  said  I. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "one  word  more,  and  I'll  agree  to 
bury  the  subject.     What  did  you  fight  about  ?  " 

"  O,  what  do  men  ever  fight  about  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  A  lady  ?  "  said  he. 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"Deuce  you  did!"  said  he.  "I  should  scarce  have 
thought  it  of  him." 

37 


ST.  IVES 

And  at  this  my  ill-humour  broke  fairly  out  in  words. 
"  He!  "  I  cried.  "  He  never  dared  to  address  her— only 
to  look  at  her  and  vomit  his  vile  insults !  She  may  have 
given  him  sixpence:  if  she  did,  it  may  take  him  to  hea- 
ven yet!  " 

At  this  1  became  aware  of  his  eyes  set  upon  me  with 
a  considering  look,  and  brought  up  sharply. 

"  Well,  well, "  said  he.  "  Good  night  to  you,  Champ- 
divers.  Come  to  me  at  breakfast-time  to-morrow,  and 
we'll  talk  of  other  subjects." 

I  fully  admit  the  man's  conduct  was  not  bad:  in  writ- 
ing it  down  so  long  after  the  events  I  can  even  see  that 
it  was  good. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ST.  IVES   GETS   A   BUNDLE   OF   BANK   NOTES 

I  WAS  surprised  one  morning,  shortly  after,  to  find 
myself  the  object  of  marked  consideration  by  a  civilian 
and  a  stranger.  This  was  a  man  of  the  middle  age;  he 
had  a  face  of  a  mulberry  colour,  round  black  eyes, 
comical  tufted  eyebrows,  and  a  protuberant  forehead; 
and  was  dressed  in  clothes  of  a  Quakerish  cut.  In  spite 
of  his  plainness,  he  had  that  inscrutable  air  of  a  man 
well-to-do  in  his  affairs.  I  conceived  he  had  been  some 
while  observing  me  from  a  distance,  for  a  sparrow  sat 
betwixt  us  quite  unalarmed  on  the  breech  of  a  piece  of 
cannon.  So  soon  as  our  eyes  met,  he  drew  near  and 
addressed  me  in  the  French  language,  which  he  spoke 
with  a  good  fluency  but  an  abominable  accent. 

**  I  have  the  pleasure  of  addressing  Monsieur  le  Vi- 
comte  Anne  de  K^roual  de  Saint-Yves  ?  "  said  he. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "  I  do  not  call  myself  all  that;  but  I 
have  a  right  to,  if  I  chose.  In  the  meanwhile  I  call  my- 
self plain  Champdivers,  at  your  disposal.  It  was  my 
mother's  name,  and  good  to  go  soldiering  with." 

"I  think  not  quite,"  said  he;  "for  if  I  remember 
rightly,  your  mother  also  had  the  particle.  Her  name 
was  Florimonde  de  Champdivers." 

}9 


ST.  IVES 

"  Right  again  I  "  said  I,  "  and  I  am  extremely  pleased 
to  meet  a  gentleman  so  well  informed  in  my  quarterings. 
Is  monsieur  Born  himself  ?  "  This  I  said  with  a  great 
air  of  assumption,  partly  to  conceal  the  degree  of  curi- 
osity with  which  my  visitor  had  inspired  me,  and  in  part 
because  it  struck  me  as  highly  incongruous  and  comical 
in  my  prison  garb  and  on  the  lips  of  a  private  soldier. 

He  seemed  to  think  so  too,  for  he  laughed. 

"  No,  sir,"  he  returned,  speaking  this  time  in  English; 
" I  am  not  'born,'  as  you  call  it,  and  must  content  my- 
self with  dytngy  of  which  I  am  equally  susceptible  with 
the  best  of  you.  My  name  is  Mr.  Romaine— Daniel 
Romaine— a  solicitor  of  London  City,  at  your  service; 
and,  what  will  perhaps  interest  you  more,  I  am  here  at 
the  request  of  your  great-uncle,  the  Count." 

"  What!  "  I  cried,  "  does  M.  de  Keroual  de  Saint-Yves 
remember  the  existence  of  such  a  person  as  myself,  and 
will  he  deign  to  count  kinship  with  a  soldier  of  Napo- 
leon ?  " 

"You  speak  English  well,"  observed  my  visitor. 

"  It  has  been  a  second  language  to  me  from  a  child," 
said  I.  "  I  had  an  English  nurse;  my  father  spoke  Eng- 
lish with  me;  and  I  was  finished  by  a  countryman  of 
yours  and  a  dear  friend  of  mine,  a  Mr.  Vicary." 

A  strong  expression  of  interest  came  into  the  lawyer's 
face. 

"  What!  "  he  cried,  "you  knew  poor  Vicary  ?  " 

" For  more  than  a  year,"  said  I;  "and  shared  his  hid- 
ing-place for  many  months." 

"And  I  was  his  clerk,  and  have  succeeded  him  in 
business,"  said  he.  "Excellent  man!  It  was  on  the 
affairs  of  M.  de  K6rouaI  that  he  went  to  that  accursed 

40 


ST.  IVES   GETS  A   BUNDLE  OF   BANK  NOTES 

country,  from  which  he  was  never  destined  to  return. 
Do  you  chance  to  know  his  end,  sir  ?  " 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  I,  "I  do.  He  perished  miserably 
at  the  hands  of  a  gang  of  banditti,  such  as  we  call 
chauffeurs.  In  a  word,  he  was  tortured,  and  died  of  it. 
See,"  I  added,  kicking  otf  one  shoe,  for  I  had  no  stock- 
ing; "I  was  no  more  than  a  child,  and  see  how  they 
had  begun  to  treat  myself." 

He  looked  at  the  mark  of  my  old  burn  with  a  certain 
shrinking.  "Beastly  people!  "  I  heard  him  mutter  to 
himself. 

"The  English  may  say  so  with  a  good  grace,"  I  ob- 
served politely. 

Such  speeches  were  the  coin  in  which  I  paid  my  way 
among  this  credulous  race.  Ninety  per  cent,  of  our 
visitors  would  have  accepted  the  remark  as  natural  in 
itself  and  creditable  to  my  powers  of  judgment,  but  it 
appeared  my  lawyer  was  more  acute. 

"  You  are  not  entirely  a  fool,  I  perceive,"  said  he. 

"No,"  said  I;  "not  wholly." 

"  And  yet  it  is  well  to  beware  of  the  ironical  mood," 
he  continued.  "  It  is  a  dangerous  instrument.  Your 
great-uncle  has,  I  believe,  practised  it  very  much,  until 
it  is  now  become  a  problem  what  he  means." 

"  And  that  brings  me  back  to  what  you  will  admit  \& 
a  most  natural  inquiry,"  said  I.  "To  what  do  I  owe 
the  pleasure  of  this  visit }  how  did  you  recognise  me  ? 
and  how  did  you  know  I  was  here  ?  " 

Carefully  separating  his  coat  skirts,  the  lawyer  took 
a  seat  beside  me  on  the  edge  of  the  flags. 

"  It  is  rather  an  odd  story,"  says  he,  "and,  with  your 
leave,  I'll  answer  the  second  question  first.     It  was  from 

4» 


ST.  IVES 

a  certain  resemblance  you  bear  to  your  cousin,  M.  le 
Vicomte." 

"  I  trust,  sir,  that  I  resemble  him  advantageously  ?  " 
said  I. 

**  I  hasten  to  reassure  you,"  was  the  reply:  "you  do. 
To  my  eyes,  M.  Alain  de  Saint-Yves  has  scarce  a  pleasing 
exterior.  And  yet,  when  I  knew  you  were  here,  and 
was  actually  looking  for  you— why,  the  likeness  helped. 
As  for  how  I  came  to  know  your  whereabouts,  by  an 
odd  enough  chance,  it  is  again  M.  Alain  we  have  to 
thank.  I  should  tell  you,  he  has  for  some  time  made  it 
his  business  to  keep  M.  de  K6roual  informed  of  your 
career;  with  what  purpose  1  leave  you  to  judge.  When 
he  first  brought  the  news  of  your— that  you  were  serving 
Buonaparte,  it  seemed  it  might  be  the  death  of  the  old 
gentleman,  so  hot  was  his  resentment.  But  from  one 
thing  to  another,  matters  have  a  little  changed.  Or  1 
should  rather  say,  not  a  little.  We  learned  you  were 
under  orders  for  the  Peninsula,  to  fight  the  English; 
then  that  you  had  been  commissioned  for  a  piece  of 
bravery,  and  were  again  reduced  to  the  ranks.  And 
from  one  thing  to  another  (as  I  say),  M.  de  K6roual  be- 
came used  to  the  idea  that  you  were  his  kinsman  and 
yet  served  with  Buonaparte,  and  filled  instead  with 
wonder  that  he  should  have  another  kinsman  who  was 
so  remarkably  well  informed  of  events  in  France.  And 
it  now  became  a  very  disagreeable  question,  whether 
the  young  gentleman  was  not  a  spy  ?  In  short,  sir,  in 
seeking  to  disserve  you,  he  had  accumulated  against 
himself  a  load  of  suspicions." 

My  visitor  now  paused,  took  snuff,  and  looked  at  me 
with  an  air  of  benevolence. 

42 


ST.  IVES  GETS  A   BUNDLE  OF  BANK  NOTES 

"Good  God,  sir!  "  says  I,  "this  is  a  curious  story." 

"  You  will  say  so  before  I  have  done,"  said  he.  "  For 
there  have  two  events  followed.  The  first  of  these 
was  an  encounter  of  M.  de  K6roual  and  M.  de  Mauseant." 

"  I  know  the  man  to  my  cost,"  said  I :  "  it  was  through 
him  I  lost  my  commission." 

"  Do  you  tell  me  so  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Why,  here  is 
news  I  " 

"O,  I  cannot  complain  I"  said  I.  "I  was  in  the 
wrong.  I  did  it  with  my  eyes  open.  If  a  man  gets  a 
prisoner  to  guard  and  lets  him  go,  the  least  he  can  ex- 
pect is  to  be  degraded." 

"You  will  be  paid  for  it,"  said  he.  "You  did  well 
for  yourself  and  better  for  your  king." 

"If  I  had  thought  I  was  injuring  my  Emperor,"  said 
I,  "  I  would  have  let  M.  de  Mauseant  burn  in  hell  ere  I 
had  helped  him,  and  be  sure  of  that!  I  saw  in  him  only 
a  private  person  in  a  difficulty:  I  let  him  go  in  private 
charity ;  not  even  to  profit  myself  will  I  suffer  it  to  be 
misunderstood." 

"  Well,  well, "  said  the  lawyer,  "  no  matter  now.  This 
is  a  foolish  warmth— a  very  misplaced  enthusiasm,  be- 
lieve me !  The  point  of  the  story  is  that  M.  de  Mauseant 
spoke  of  you  with  gratitude,  and  drew  your  character 
in  such  a  manner  as  greatly  to  affect  your  uncle's  views. 
Hard  upon  the  back  of  which,  in  came  your  humble 
servant,  and  laid  before  him  the  direct  proof  of  what 
we  had  been  so  long  suspecting.  There  was  no  dubiety 
permitted.  M.  Alain's  expensive  way  of  life,  his  clothes 
and  mistresses,  his  dicing  and  race-horses,  were  all  ex- 
plained :  he  was  in  the  pay  of  Buonaparte,  a  hired  spy, 
and  a  man  that  held  the  strings  of  what  I  can  only  call 

43 


ST.  IVES 

a  convolution  of  extremely  fishy  enterprises.  To  do 
M.  de  K^roual  justice,  he  took  it  in  the  best  way  imagi- 
nable, destroyed  the  evidences  of  the  one  great-nephew's 
disgrace— and  transferred  his  interest  wholly  to  the 
other." 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  by  that  ?  "  said  I. 

"I  will  tell  you,"  says  he.  "There  is  a  remarkable 
inconsistency  in  human  nature  which  gentlemen  of  my 
cloth  have  a  great  deal  of  occasion  to  observe.  Selfish 
persons  can  live  without  chick  or  child,  they  can  live 
without  all  mankind  except  perhaps  the  barber  and  the 
apothecary;  but  when  it  comes  to  dying,  they  seem 
physically  unable  to  die  without  an  heir.  You  can 
apply  this  principle  for  yourself.  Viscount  Alain, 
though  he  scarce  guesses  it,  is  no  longer  in  the  field. 
Remains,  Viscount  Anne." 

"I  see,"  said  I,  "you  give  a  very  unfavourable  im- 
pression of  my  uncle,  the  Count." 

"  I  had  not  meant  it,"  said  he.  "  He  has  led  a  loose 
life—sadly  loose— but  he  is  a  man  it  is  impossible  to 
know  and  not  to  admire;  his  courtesy  is  exquisite." 

"  And  so  you  think  there  is  actually  a  chance  for  me  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Understand,"  said  he:  "  in  saying  as  much  as  I  have 
done,  I  travel  quite  beyond  my  brief.  I  have  been 
clothed  with  no  capacity  to  talk  of  wills,  or  heritages, 
or  your  cousin.  I  was  sent  here  to  make  but  the  one 
communication :  that  M.  de  K^roual  desires  to  meet  his 
great-nephew." 

"Well,"  said  I,  looking  about  me  on  the  battlements 
by  which  we  sat  surrounded,  "  this  is  a  case  in  which 
Mahomet  must  certainly  come  to  the  mountain." 


ST.    IVES   GETS   A   BUNDLE  OF  BANK  NOTES 

*' Pardon  me,"  said  Mr.  Romaine,  **you  know  already 
your  uncle  is  an  aged  man ;  but  I  have  not  yet  told  you 
that  he  is  quite  broken  up,  and  his  death  shortly  looked 
for.  No,  no,  there  is  no  doubt  about  it— it  is  the 
mountain  that  must  come  to  Mahomet." 

**  From  an  Englishman,  the  remark  is  certainly  signifi- 
cant,** said  I;  "but  you  are  of  course,  and  by  trade,  a 
keeper  of  men's  secrets,  and  I  see  you  keep  that  of 
Cousin  Alain,  which  is  not  the  mark  of  a  truculent 
patriotism,  to  say  the  least." 

'*  I  am  first  of  all  the  lawyer  of  your  family ! "  says  he. 

"That  being  so,"  said  I,  "I  can  perhaps  stretch  a 
point  myself  This  rock  is  very  high,  and  it  is  very 
steep ;  a  man  might  come  by  a  devil  of  a  fall  from  al- 
most any  part  of  it,  and  yet  I  believe  I  have  a  pair  of 
wings  that  might  carry  me  just  so  far  as  to  the  bottom. 
Once  at  the  bottom  I  am  helpless." 

"And  perhaps  it  is  just  then  that  I  could  step  in,*'  re- 
turned the  lawyer.  "  Suppose  by  some  contingency,  at 
which  I  make  no  guess,  and  on  which  I  offer  no  opin- 
ion  — 

But  here  I  interrupted  him.  "  One  word  ere  you  go 
further.     I  am  under  no  parole,*'  said  I. 

'*  I  understood  so  much,"  he  replied,  "  although  some 
of  you  French  gentry  find  their  word  sit  lightly  on 
them." 

"  Sir,  I  am  not  one  of  those,"  said  I. 

"To  do  you  plain  justice,  I  do  not  think  you  one," 
said  he.  "Suppose  yourself,  then,  set  free  and  at  the 
bottom  of  the  rock,"  he  continued,  "although  I  may 
not  be  able  to  do  much,  I  believe  I  can  do  something  to 
help  you  on  your  road.     In  the  first  place  I  would  carry 

45 


ST.  IVES 

this,  whether  in  an  inside  pocket  or  my  shoe."    And  he 
passed  me  a  bundle  of  bank  notes. 

"No  harm  in  that,"  said  I,  at  once  concealing  them. 

"  In  the  second  place,"  he  resumed,  **  it  is  a  great  way 
from  here  to  where  your  uncle  lives— Amersham  Place, 
not  far  from  Dunstable ;  you  have  a  great  part  of  Britain 
to  get  through ;  and  for  the  first  stages,  I  must  leave  you 
to  your  own  luck  and  ingenuity.  I  have  no  acquain- 
tance here  in  Scotland,  or  at  least "  (with  a  grimace)  "  no 
dishonest  ones.  But  farther  to  the  south,  about  Wake- 
field, I  am  told  there  is  a  gentleman  called  Burchell  Fenn, 
who  is  not  so  particular  as  some  others,  and  might  be 
willing  to  give  you  a  cast  forward.  In  fact,  sir,  I  be- 
lieve it's  the  man's  trade:  a  piece  of  knowledge  that 
burns  my  mouth.  But  that  is  what  you  get  by  meddling 
with  rogues ;  and  perhaps  the  biggest  rogue  now  extant, 
M.  de  Saint-Yves,  is  your  cousin,  M.  Alain." 

"  If  this  be  a  man  of  my  cousin's,"  I  observed,  "  I  am 
perhaps  better  to  keep  clear  of  him  ?  " 

"  It  was  through  some  papers  of  your  cousin's  that 
we  came  across  his  trail,"  replied  the  lawyer.  "But  I 
am  inclined  to  think,  so  far  as  anything  is  safe  in  such 
a  nasty  business,  you  may  apply  to  the  man  Fenn.  You 
might  even,  I  think,  use  the  Viscount's  name;  and 
the  little  trick  of  family  resemblance  might  come  in. 
How,  for  instance,  if  you  were  to  call  yourself  his 
brother  ?  " 

"It  might  be  done,"  said  I.  "But  look  here  a  mo- 
ment !  You  propose  to  me  a  very  diificult  game :  I  have 
apparently  a  devil  of  an  opponent  in  my  cousin;  and 
being  a  prisoner  of  war,  I  can  scarce  be  said  to  hold 
good  cards.     For  what  stakes,  then,  am  I  playing  ?  " 

46 


ST.  IVES  GETS  A  BUNDLE  OF  BANK  NOTES 

"They  are  very  large,"  said  he.  "Your  great-uncle 
is  immensely  rich— immensely  rich.  He  was  wise  in 
time;  he  smelt  the  revolution  long  before;  sold  all  that 
he  could,  and  had  all  that  was  movable  transported  to 
England  through  my  firm.  There  are  considerable  es- 
tates in  England;  Amersham  Place  itself  is  very  fine;  and 
he  has  much  money,  wisely  invested.  He  lives,  indeed, 
like  a  prince.  And  of  what  use  is  it  to  him  ?  He  has 
lost  all  that  was  worth  living  for— his  family,  his  coun- 
try ;  he  has  seen  his  king  and  queen  murdered ;  he  has 
seen  all  these  miseries  and  infamies,"  pursued  the  law- 
yer, with  a  rising  inflection  and  a  heightening  colour; 
and  then  broke  suddenly  off,— "In  short,  sir,  he  has 
seen  all  the  advantages  of  that  government  for  which 
his  nephew  carries  arms,  and  he  has  the  misfortune  not 
to  like  them." 

"  You  speak  with  a  bitterness  that  1  suppose  1  must 
excuse,"  said  I;  "yet  which  of  us  has  the  more  reason 
to  be  bitter  ?  This  man,  my  uncle,  M.  de  Keroual,  fled. 
My  parents,  who  were  less  wise  perhaps,  remained. 
In  the  beginning,  they  were  even  republicans;  to  the 
end,  they  could  not  be  persuaded  to  despair  of  the  people. 
It  was  a  glorious  folly,  for  which,  as  a  son,  I  reverence 
them.  First  one  and  then  the  other  perished.  If  I  have 
any  mark  of  a  gentleman,  all  who  taught  me  died  upon 
the  scaffold,  and  my  last  school  of  manners  was  the 
prison  of  the  Abbaye.  Do  you  think  you  can  teach 
bitterness  to  a  man  with  a  history  like  mine  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  try,"  said  he.  "  And  yet  there  is 
one  point  I  cannot  understand :  I  cannot  understand  that 
one  of  your  blood  and  experience  should  serve  the  Cor- 
sican.     I  cannot  understand  it:  it  seems  as  though 

47 


ST.  IVES 

everything  generous  in  you  must  rise  against  that-^ 
domination." 

"And  perhaps,"  I  retorted,  "had  your  childhood 
passed  among  wolves,  you  would  have  been  overjoyed 
yourself  to  see  the  Corsican  Shepherd." 

"Well,  well,"  replied  Mr.  Romaine,  "it  may  be. 
There  are  things  that  do  not  bear  discussion." 

And  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  he  disappeared  abruptly 
down  a  flight  of  steps  and  under  the  shadow  of  a  pon- 
derous arch. 


48 


CHAPTER   V 

ST.   IVES   IS   SHOWN   A    HOUSE 

The  lawyer  was  scarce  gone  before  I  remembered 
many  omissions;  and  chief  among  these,  that  I  had  neg- 
lected to  get  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn's  address.  Here  was 
an  essential  point  neglected;  and  I  ran  to  the  head  of 
the  stairs  to  find  myself  already  too  late.  The  lawyer 
was  beyond  my  view;  in  the  archway  that  led  down- 
ward to  the  castle  gate,  only  the  red  coat  and  the  bright 
arms  of  a  sentry  glittered  in  the  shadow;  and  1  could 
but  return  to  my  place  upon  the  ramparts. 

I  am  not  very  sure  that  1  was  properly  entitled  to  this 
corner.  But  I  was  a  high  favourite;  not  an  officer,  and 
scarce  a  private,  in  the  castle  would  have  turned  me  back, 
except  upon  a  thing  of  moment;  and  whenever  I  desired 
to  be  solitary,  I  was  suffered  to  sit  here  behind  my  piece 
of  cannon  unmolested.  The  cliff  went  down  before  me 
almost  sheer,  but  mantled  with  a  thicket  of  climbing 
trees;  from  farther  down,  an  outwork  raised  its  turret; 
and  across  the  valley  1  had  a  view  of  that  long  terrace 
of  Princes  Street  which  serves  as  a  promenade  to  the 
fashionable  inhabitants  of  Edinburgh.  A  singularity  in 
a  military  prison,  that  it  should  command  a  view  on  the 
chief  thoroughfare ! 

49 


ST.  IVES 

It  is  not  necessary  that  I  should  trouble  you  with  the 
train  of  my  reflections,  which  turned  upon  the  interview 
I  had  just  concluded  and  the  hopes  that  were  now 
opening  before  me.  What  is  more  essential,  my  eye 
(even  while  I  thought)  kept  following  the  movement  of 
the  passengers  on  Princes  Street,  as  they  passed  briskly 
to  and  fro— met,  greeted,  and  bowed  to  each  other— or 
entered  and  left  the  shops,  which  are  in  that  quarter, 
and  for  a  town  of  the  Britannic  provinces,  particularly 
fine.  My  mind  being  busy  upon  other  things,  the 
course  of  my  eye  was  the  more  random ;  and  it  chanced 
that  1  followed,  for  some  time,  the  advance  of  a  young 
gentleman  with  a  red  head  and  a  white  greatcoat,  for 
whom  I  cared  nothing  at  the  moment,  and  of  whom  it 
is  probable  I  shall  be  gathered  to  my  fathers  without 
learning  more.  He  seemed  to  have  a  large  acquaintance : 
his  hat  was  for  ever  in  his  hand ;  and  I  dare  say  I  had 
already  observed  him  exchanging  compliments  with 
half  a  dozen,  when  he  drew  up  at  last  before  a  young 
man  and  a  young  lady  whose  tall  persons  and  gallant 
carriage  I  thought  1  recognised. 

It  was  impossible  at  such  a  distance  that  I  could  be 
sure,  but  the  thought  was  sufificient,  and  I  craned  out 
of  the  embrasure  to  follow  them  as  long  as  possible. 
To  think  that  such  emotions,  that  such  a  concussion  of 
the  blood,  may  have  been  inspired  by  a  chance  resem^ 
blance,  and  that  I  may  have  stood  and  thrilled  there  for 
a  total  stranger!  This  distant  view,  at  least,  whether 
of  Flora  or  of  some  one  else,  changed  in  a  moment  the 
course  of  my  reflections.  It  was  all  very  well,  and  it 
was  highly  needful,  I  should  see  my  uncle;  but  an 
uncle,  a  great-uncle  at  that,  and  one  whom  I  had  never 

50 


ST.  IVES   IS  SHOWN   A   HOUSE 

seen,  leaves  the  imagination  cold ;  and  if  I  were  to  leave 
the  castle,  I  might  never  again  have  the  opportunity  of 
finding  Flora.  The  little  impression  I  had  made,  even 
supposing  I  had  made  any,  how  soon  it  would  die  out! 
how  soon  1  should  sink  to  be  a  phantom  memory,  with 
which  (in  after  days)  she  might  amuse  a  husband  and 
children!  No,  the  impression  must  be  clenched,  the 
wax  impressed  with  the  seal,  ere  I  left  Edinburgh.  And 
at  this  the  two  interests  that  were  now  contending  in 
my  bosom  came  together  and  became  one.  I  wished  to 
see  Flora  again ;  and  I  wanted  some  one  to  further  me 
in  my  flight  and  to  get  me  new  clothes.  The  conclusion 
was  apparent.  Except  for  persons  in  the  garrison  itself, 
with  whom  it  was  a  point  of  honour  and  military  duty 
to  retain  me  captive,  I  knew,  in  the  whole  country  of 
Scotland,  these  two  alone.  If  it  were  to  be  done  at  all, 
they  must  be  my  helpers.  To  tell  them  of  my  designed 
escape  while  I  was  still  in  bonds,  would  be  to  lay  before 
them  a  most  difficult  choice.  What  they  might  do  in 
such  a  case,  I  could  not  in  the  least  be  sure  of,  for  (the 
same  case  arising)  I  was  far  from  sure  what  I  should  do 
myself.  It  was  plain  I  must  escape  first.  When  the 
harm  was  done,  when  I  was  no  more  than  a  poor  way- 
side fugitive,  I  might  apply  to  them  with  less  offence 
and  more  security.  To  this  end  it  became  necessary 
that  I  should  find  out  where  they  lived  and  how  to  reach 
it;  and  feeling  a  strong  confidence  that  they  would  soon 
return  to  visit  me,  I  prepared  a  series  of  baits  with 
which  to  angle  for  my  information.  It  will  be  seen  the 
first  was  good  enough. 

Perhaps  two  days  after,  Master  Ronald  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance by  himself.     I  had  no  hold  upon  the  boy,  and 

5» 


ST.  IVES 

pretermitted  my  design  till  I  should  have  laid  court  to 
him  and  engaged  his  interest.  He  was  prodigiously 
embarrassed,  not  having  previously  addressed  me  other- 
wise than  by  a  bow  and  blushes;  and  he  advanced  to 
me  with  an  air  of  one  stubbornly  performing  a  duty, 
like  a  raw  soldier  under  fire.  I  laid  down  my  carving; 
greeted  him  with  a  good  deal  of  formality,  such  as  I 
thought  he  would  enjoy;  and  finding  him  to  remain 
silent,  branched  off  into  narratives  of  my  campaigns 
such  as  Goguelat  himself  might  have  scrupled  to  in- 
dorse. He  visibly  thawed  and  brightened ;  drew  more 
near  to  where  1  sat;  forgot  his  timidity  so  far  as  to  put 
many  questions;  and  at  last,  with  another  blush,  in- 
formed me  he  was  himself  expecting  a  commission. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "they  are  fine  troops,  your  British 
troops  in  the  Peninsula.  A  young  gentleman  of  spirit 
may  well  be  proud  to  be  engaged  at  the  head  of  such 
soldiers." 

"  I  know  that,"  he  said;  "  I  think  of  nothing  else.  1 
think  shame  to  be  dangling  here  at  home  and  going 
through  with  this  foolery  of  education,  while  others,  no 
older  than  myself,  are  in  the  field." 

"  I  cannot  blame  you,"  said  I.  "  I  have  felt  the  same 
myself." 

"  There  are— there  are  no  troops,  are  there,  quite  so 
good  as  ours  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "there  is  a  point  about  them:  they 
have  a  defect,— they  are  not  to  be  trusted  in  a  retreat 
I  have  seen  them  behave  very  ill  in  a  retreat" 
•  "I  believe  that  is  our  national  character,"  he  said- 
God  forgive  him  I  —with  an  air  of  pride. 

"  I  have  seen  your  national  character  running  away  at 

52 


ST.  IVES  IS  SHOWN  A  HOUSE 

least,  and  had  the  honour  to  run  after  it!  "  rose  to  my 
lips,  but  1  was  not  so  ill  advised  as  to  give  it  utterance. 
Every  one  should  be  flattered,  but  boys  and  women 
without  stint;  and  I  put  in  the  rest  of  the  afternoon 
narrating  to  him  tales  of  British  heroism,  for  which  I 
should  not  like  to  engage  that  they  were  all  true. 

"  I  am  quite  surprised,"  he  said  at  last.  "  People  tell 
you  the  French  are  insincere.  Now,  I  think  your  sin- 
cerity is  beautiful.  I  think  you  have  a  noble  character. 
I  admire  you  very  much.  I  am  very  grateful  for  your 
kindness  to— to  one  so  young,  '  and  he  offered  me  his 
hand. 

"  I  shall  see  you  again  soon  ?  "  said  I. 

"  O,  now  I  Yes,  very  soon, "  said  he.  "  I~I  wish  to 
tell  you.  I  would  not  let  Flora— Miss  Gilchrist,  I  mean 
—come  to-day.  I  wished  to  see  more  of  you  myself. 
I  trust  you  are  not  offended :  you  know,  one  should  be 
careful  about  strangers." 

I  approved  his  caution,  and  he  took  himself  away: 
leaving  me  in  a  mixture  of  contrarious  feelings,  part 
ashamed  to  have  played  on  one  so  gullible,  part  raging 
that  I  should  have  burned  so  much  incense  before  the 
vanity  of  England;  yet,  in  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  de- 
lighted to  think  I  had  made  a  friend— or,  at  least,  begun 
to  make  a  friend— of  Flora's  brother. 

As  I  had  half  expected,  both  made  their  appearance 
the  next  day.  I  struck  so  fine  a  shade  betwixt  the  pride 
that  is  allowed  to  soldiers  and  the  sorrowful  humility 
that  befits  a  captive,  that  I  declare,  as  I  went  to  meet 
them,  1  might  have  afforded  a  subject  for  a  painter.  So 
much  was  high  comedy,  1  must  confess ;  but  so  soon  as 
my  eyes  lighted  full  on  her  dark  face  and  eloquent  eyes, 

53 


ST.  IVES 

the  blood  leaped  into  my  cheeks  —  and  that  was  nature! 
I  thanked  them,  but  not  the  least^with  exultation ;  it 
was  my  cue  to  be  mournful,  and  to  take  the  pair  of 
them  as  one. 

"I  have  been  thinking,"  I  said,  "you  have  been  so 
good  to  me,  both  of  you,  stranger  and  prisoner  as  I  am, 
that  I  have  been  thinking  how  I  could  testify  to  my 
gratitude.  It  may  seem  a  strange  subject  for  a  confi- 
dence, but  there  is  actually  no  one  here,  even  of  my 
comrades,  that  knows  me  by  my  name  and  title.  By 
these  I  am  called  plain  Champdivers,  a  name  to  which 
I  have  a  right,  but  not  the  name  which  I  should  bear, 
and  which  (but  a  little  while  ago)  I  must  hide  like  a 
crime.  Miss  Flora,  suffer  me  to  present  to  you  the 
Vicomte  Anne  de  Keroual  de  Saint-Yves,  a  private 
soldier." 

'  *  I  knew  it ! "  cried  the  boy ;  "  I  knew  he  was  a  noble !  ** 

And  I  thought  the  eyes  of  Miss  Flora  said  the  same, 
but  more  persuasively.  All  through  this  interview  she 
kept  them  on  the  ground,  or  only  gave  them  to  me  for 
a  moment  at  a  time,  and  with  a  serious  sweetness. 

"You  may  conceive,  my  friends,  that  this  is  rather  a 
painful  confession,"  I  continued.  "To  stand  here  be- 
fore you,  vanquished,  a  prisoner  in  a  fortress,  and  take 
my  own  name  upon  my  lips,  is  painful  to  the  proud. 
And  yet  I  wished  that  you  should  know  me.  Long 
after  this,  we  may  yet  hear  of  one  another — perhaps 
Mr.  Gilchrist  and  myself  in  the  field  and  from  opposing 
camps — and  it  would  be  a  pity  if  we  heard  and  did  not 
recognise." 

They  were  both  moved;  and  began  at  once  to  press 
upon  me  offers  of  service,  such  as  to  lend  me  books, 

54 


ST.  IVES  IS  SHOWN   A   HOUSE 

get  me  tobacco  if  I  used  it,  and  the  like.  This  would 
have  been  all  mighty  welcome,  before  the  tunnel  was 
ready.  Now  it  signified  no  more  to  me  than  to  offer 
the  transition  I  required. 

"My  dear  friends,"  I  said— "for  you  must  allow  me 
to  call  you  that,  who  have  no  others  within  so  many 
hundred  leagues— perhaps  you  will  think  me  fanciful 
and  sentimental;  and  perhaps  indeed  I  am;  but  there  is  * 
one  service  that  I  would  beg  of  you  before  all  others. 
You  see  me  set  here  on  the  top  of  this  rock  in  the  midst 
of  your  city.  Even  with  what  liberty  I  have,  1  have  the 
opportunity  to  see  a  myriad  roofs,  and  I  dare  to  say 
thirty  leagues  of  sea  and  land.  All  this  hostile !  Under 
all  these  roofs  my  enemies  dwell;  wherever  1  see  the 
smoke  of  a  house  rising,  I  must  tell  myself  that  some 
one  sits  before  the  chimney  and  reads  with  joy  of  our 
reverses.  Pardon  me,  dear  friends,  I  know  that  you 
must  do  the  same,  and  1  do  not  grudge  at  it!  With 
you,  it  is  all  different.  Show  me  your  house,  then, 
were  it  only  the  chimney,  or,  if  that  be  not  visible,  the 
quarter  of  the  town  in  which  it  lies!  So,  when  1  look 
all  about  me,  I  shall  be  able  to  say :  *  There  is  one  house 
in  which  I  am  not  quite  unkindly  thought  of.' " 

Flora  stood  a  moment. 

" It  is  a  pretty  thought,"  said  she,  "and  as  far  as  re- 
gards Ronald  and  myself,  a  true  one.  Come,  I  believe 
1  can  show  you  the  very  smoke  out  of  our  chimney." 

So  saying,  she  carried  me  round  the  battlements  to- 
wards the  opposite  or  southern  side  of  the  fortress,  and 
indeed  to  a  bastion  almost  immediately  overlooking  the 
place  of  our  projected  flight.  Thence  we  had  a  view 
of  some  foreshortened  suburbs  at  our  feet,  and  beyond 

55 


ST.  IVES 

of  a  green,  open,  and  irregular  country  rising  towards 
the  Pentland  Hills.  The  face  of  one  of  these  summits 
(say  two  leagues  from  where  we  stood)  is  marked  with 
a  procession  of  white  scars.  And  to  this  she  directed 
my  attention. 

"  You  see  these  marks  ?  "  she  said.  "  We  call  them 
the  Seven  Sisters.  Follow  a  little  lower  with  your  eye, 
and  you  will  see  a  fold  of  the  hill,  the  tops  of  some 
trees,  and  a  tail  of  smoke  out  of  the  midst  of  them. 
That  is  Swanston  Cottage,  where  my  brother  and  I  are 
living  with  my  aunt.  If  it  gives  you  pleasure  to  see  it, 
I  am  glad.  We,  too,  can  see  the  castle  from  a  comer 
in  the  garden,  and  we  go  there  in  the  morning  often— 
do  we  not,  Ronald .?— and  we  think  of  you,  M.  de  Saint- 
Yves  ;  but  I  am  afraid  it  does  not  altogether  make  us 
glad." 

"Mademoiselle!  "  said  I,  and  indeed  my  voice  was 
scarce  under  command,  "  if  you  knew  how  your  gener- 
ous words— how  even  the  sight  of  you— relieved  the 
horrors  of  this  place,  I  believe,  I  hope,  1  know,  you 
would  be  glad.  I  will  come  here  daily  and  look  at  that 
dear  chimney  and  these  green  hills,  and  bless  you  from 
the  heart,  and  dedicate  to  you  the  prayers  of  this  poor 
sinner.     Ah!  I  do  not  say  they  can  avail!  " 

"  Who  can  say  that,  M.  de  Saint-Yves  ?  "  she  said 
softly.     "  But  I  think  it  is  time  we  should  be  going." 

"  High  time,"  said  Ronald,  whom  (to  say  the  truth)  I 
had  a  little  forgotten. 

On  the  way  back,  as  I  was  laying  myself  out  to  re- 
cover lost  ground  with  the  youth,  and  to  obliterate,  if 
possible,  the  memory  of  my  last  and  somewhat  too  fer- 

56 


ST.  IVES  IS  SHOWN  A  HOUSE 

vent  speech,  who  should  come  past  us  but  the  major  ? 
I  had  to  stand  aside  and  salute  as  he  went  by,  but  his 
eyes  appeared  entirely  occupied  with  Flora. 

"  Who  is  that  man  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  He  is  a  friend  of  mine,"  said  I.  "  I  give  him  lessons 
in  French,  and  he  has  been  very  kind  to  me." 

"He  stared,"  she  said,— "I  do  not  say,  rudely;  but 
why  should  he  stare  ?  " 

"  If  you  do  not  wish  to  be  stared  at,  mademoiselle, 
suffer  me  to  recommend  a  veil,"  said  I. 

She  looked  at  me  with  what  seemed  anger.  "  I  tell 
you  the  man  stared,"  she  said. 

And  Ronald  added:  **0,  1  don't  think  he  meant  any 
harm.  I  suppose  he  was  just  surprised  to  see  us  walk- 
ing about  with  a  pr— with  M.  Saint-Yves." 

But  the  next  morning,  when  I  went  to  Chevenix's 
rooms,  and  after  I  had  dutifully  corrected  his  exercise— 
"  I  compliment  you  on  your  taste,"  said  he  to  me. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  "  said  I. 

"  O  no,  I  beg  yours,"  said  he.  "  You  understand  me 
perfectly,  just  as  1  do  you." 

I  murmured  something  about  enigmas. 

"  Well,  shall  I  give  you  the  key  to  the  enigma  ?  "  said 
he,  leaning  back.  "That  was  the  young  lady  whom 
Goguelat  insulted  and  whom  you  avenged.  I  do  not 
blame  you.     She  is  a  heavenly  creature." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  to  the  last  of  it!  "  said  I.  "  And 
to  the  first  also,  if  it  amuses  you!  You  are  become  so 
very  acute  of  late  that  I  suppose  you  must  have  your 
own  way." 

"  What  is  her  name  ?  "  he  asked. 

57 


ST.  IVES 

"  Now,  really !  "  said  I.  "  Do  you  think  it  likely  she 
has  told  me  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  certain,"  said  he. 

I  could  not  restrain  my  laughter.  "Well,  then,  do 
you  think  it  likely  I  would  tell  you  ?  "  I  cried. 

" Not  a  bit,"  said  he.     "  But  come,  to  our  lesson!  " 


58 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  ESCAPE 

The  time  for  our  escape  drew  near,  and  the  nearer  it 
came  the  less  we  seemed  to  enjoy  the  prospect.  There 
is  but  one  side  on  which  this  castle  can  be  left  either 
with  dignity  or  safety ;  but  as  there  is  the  main  gate  and 
guard,  and  the  chief  street  of  the  upper  city,  it  is  not  to 
be  thought  of  by  escaping  prisoners.  In  all  other  direc- 
tions an  abominable  precipice  surrounds  it,  down  the 
face  of  which  (if  anywhere  at  all)  we  must  regain  our 
liberty.  By  our  concurrent  labours  in  many  a  dark  night, 
working  with  the  most  anxious  precautions  against 
noise,  we  had  made  out  to  pierce  below  the  curtain 
about  the  south-west  corner,  in  a  place  they  call  the 
Devil's  Elbow.  I  have  never  met  that  celebrity ;  nor  (if 
the  rest  of  him  at  all  comes  up  to  what  they  called  his 
elbow)  have  I  the  least  desire  of  his  acquaintance.  From 
the  heel  of  the  masonry,  the  rascally,  breakneck  preci- 
pice descended  sheer  among  waste  lands,  scattered 
suburbs  of  the  city,  and  houses  in  the  building.  I  had 
never  the  heart  to  look  for  any  length  of  time— the 
thought  that  I  must  make  the  descent  in  person  some 
dark  night  robbing  me  of  breath ;  and,  indeed,  on  any- 

59 


ST.  IVES 

body  not  a  seaman  or  a  steeple-jack,  the  mere  sight  of 

the  DeviVs  Elbow  wrought  like  an  emetic. 

I  don't  know  where  the  rope  was  got,  and  doubt  if 
I  much  cared.  It  was  not  that  which  gravelled  me,  but 
whether,  now  that  we  had  it,  it  would  serve  our  turn.  Its 
length,  indeed,  we  made  a  shift  to  fathom  out;  but  who 
was  to  tell  us  how  that  length  compared  with  the  way 
we  had  to  go  }  Day  after  day,  there  would  be  always 
some  of  us  stolen  out  to  the  Devil's  Elbow  and  making 
estimates  of  the  descent,  whether  by  a  bare  guess  or  the 
dropping  of  stones.  A  private  of  pioneers  remembered 
the  formula  for  that— or  else  remembered  part  of  it  and 
obligingly  invented  the  remainder.  I  had  never  any  real 
confidence  in  that  formula ;  and  even  had  we  got  it  from 
a  book,  there  were  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  applica- 
tion that  might  have  daunted  Archimedes.  We  durst 
not  drop  any  considerable  pebble  lest  the  sentinels 
should  hear,  and  those  that  we  dropped  we  could  not 
hear  ourselves.  We  had  never  a  watch— or  none  that 
had  a  second  hand;  and  though  every  one  of  us  could 
guess  a  second  to  a  nicety,  all  somehow  guessed  it 
differently.  In  short,  if  any  two  set  forth  upon  this 
enterprise,  they  invariably  returned  with  two  opinions, 
and  often  with  a  black  eye  in  the  bargain.  I  looked  on 
upon  these  proceedings,  although  not  without  laughter, 
yet  with  impatience  and  disgust.  I  am  one  that  cannot 
bear  to  see  things  botched  or  gone  upon  with  ignorance; 
and  the  thought  that  some  poor  devil  was  to  hazard  his 
bones  upon  such  premises  revolted  me.  Had  I  guessed 
the  name  of  that  unhappy  first  adventurer,  my  senti- 
ments might  have  been  livelier  still. 

The  designation  of  this  personage  was  indeed  ail  that 

60 


THE  ESCAPE 

remained  for  us  to  do;  and  even  in  that  we  had  ad- 
vanced so  far  that  the  lot  had  fallen  on  Shed  B.  It  had 
been  determined  to  mingle  the  bitter  and  the  sweet;  and 
whoever  went  down  first,  the  whole  of  his  shed-mates 
were  to  follow  next  in  order.  This  caused  a  good  deal 
of  joy  in  Shed  B,  and  would  have  caused  more  if  it  had 
not  still  remained  to  choose  our  pioneer.  In  view  of 
the  ambiguity  in  which  we  lay  as  to  the  length  of  the 
rope  and  the  height  of  the  precipice,  and  that  this  gen- 
tleman was  to  climb  down  from  fifty  to  seventy  fathoms 
on  a  pitchy  night,  on  a  rope  entirely  free,  and  with  not 
so  much  as  an  infant  child  to  steady  it  at  the  bottom,  a 
little  backwardness  was  perhaps  excusable.  But  it  was, 
in  our  case,  more  than  a  little.  The  truth  is,  we  were 
all  womanish  fellows  about  a  height;  and  I  have  myself 
been  put,  more  than  once,  hors  de  combat  by  a  less  affair 
than  the  rock  of  Edinburgh  Castle. 

We  discussed  it  in  the  dark  and  between  the  passage 
of  the  rounds;  and  it  was  impossible  for  any  body  of 
men  to  show  a  less  adventurous  spirit.  I  am  sure  some 
of  us,  and  myself  first  among  the  number,  regretted 
Goguelat.  Some  were  persuaded  it  was  safe,  and  could 
prove  the  same  by  argument;  but  if  they  had  good 
reasons  why  some  one  else  should  make  the  trial,  they 
had  better  still  why  it  should  not  be  themselves.  Others, 
again,  condemned  the  whole  idea  as  insane;  among 
these,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  a  seaman  of  the  fleet, 
who  was  the  most  dispiriting  of  all.  The  height,  he 
reminded  us,  was  greater  than  the  tallest  ship's  mast, 
the  rope  entirely  free;  and  he  as  good  as  defied  the 
boldest  and  strongest  to  succeed.  We  were  relieved 
from  this  dead-lock  by  our  sergeant-major  of  dragoons. 

61 


ST.  IVES 

"Comrades,"  said  he,  "I  believe  I  rank  you  all;  and 
for  that  reason,  if  you  really  wish  it,  1  will  be  the  first 
myself.  At  the  same  time,  you  are  to  consider  what 
the  chances  are  that  1  may  prove  to  be  the  last,  as  well. 
I  am  no  longer  young— 1  was  sixty  near  a  month  ago. 
Since  I  have  been  a  prisoner,  1  have  made  for  myself  a 
little  bedaine.  My  arms  are  all  gone  to  fat.  And  you 
must  promise  not  to  blame  me,  if  I  fall  and  play  the 
devil  with  the  whole  thing." 

"We  cannot  hear  of  such  a  thing!  "  said  I.  "M. 
Laclas  is  the  oldest  man  here;  and,  as  such,  he  should 
be  the  very  last  to  offer.  It  is  plain,  we  must  draw 
lots." 

"No,"  said  M.  Laclas;  "you  put  something  else  in 
my  head !  There  is  one  here  who  owes  a  pretty  candle 
to  the  others,  for  they  have  kept  his  secret.  Besides, 
the  rest  of  us  are  only  rabble;  and  he  is  another  affair 
altogether.  Let  Champdivers— let  the  noble  go  the 
first." 

1  confess  there  was  a  notable  pause  before  the  noble 
in  question  got  his  voice.  But  there  was  no  room  for 
choice.  I  had  been  so  ill  advised,  when  I  first  joined 
the  regiment,  as  to  take  ground  on  my  nobility.  I  had 
been  often  rallied  on  the  matter  in  the  ranks,  and  had 
passed  under  the  by-names  of  Monseigneiir  and  the 
Marquis.  It  was  now  needful  I  should  justify  myself 
and  take  a  fair  revenge. 

Any  little  hesitation  I  may  have  felt  passed  entirely 
unnoticed,  from  the  lucky  incident  of  a  round  happen- 
ing at  that  moment  to  go  by.  And  during  that  interval 
of  silence  there  occurred  something  that  sent  my  blood 
to  the  boil.     There  was  a  private  in  our  shed  called 

63 


THE   ESCAPE 

Clausel,  a  man  of  very  ugly  disposition.  He  had  made 
one  of  the  followers  of  Goguelat ;  but,  whereas  Gogue- 
lat  had  always  a  kind  of  monstrous  gaiety  about  him, 
Clausel  was  no  less  morose  than  he  was  evil-minded. 
He  was  sometimes  called  the  General,  and  sometimes 
by  a  name  too  ill-mannered  for  repetition.  As  we  all 
sat  listening,  this  man's  hand  was  laid  on  my  shoulder, 
and  his  voice  whispered  in  my  ear:  "If  you  don't  go, 
I'll  have  you  hanged.  Marquis!  " 

As  soon  as  the  round  was  past—"  Certainly,  gentle- 
men! "  said  1.  "I  will  give  you  a  lead,  with  all  the 
pleasure  in  the  world.  But,  first  of  all,  there  is  a  hound 
here  to  be  punished.  M.  Clausel  has  just  insulted  me, 
and  dishonoured  the  French  army;  and  I  demand  that 
he  run  the  gantlet  of  this  shed." 

There  was  but  one  voice  asking  what  he  had  done, 
and,  as  soon  as  I  had  told  them,  but  one  voice  agreeing 
to  the  punishment.  The  General  was,  in  consequence, 
extremely  roughly  handled,  and  the  next  day  was  con- 
gratulated by  all  who  saw  him  on  his  new  decorations. 
It  was  lucky  for  us  that  he  was  one  of  the  prime  movers 
and  believers  in  our  project  of  escape,  or  he  had  cer- 
tainly revenged  himself  by  a  denunciation.  As  for  his 
feelings  towards  myself,  they  appeared,  by  his  looks,  to 
surpass  humanity;  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  give  him 
a  wide  berth  in  the  future. 

Had  I  been  to  go  down  that  instant,  I  believe  I  could 
have  carried  it  well.  But  it  was  already  too  late— the 
day  was  at  hand.  The  rest  had  still  to  be  summoned. 
Nor  was  this  the  extent  of  my  misfortune;  for  the  next 
night,  and  the  night  after,  were  adorned  with  a  perfect 
galaxy  of  stars,  and  showed  every  cat  that  stirred  in  a 

63 


ST.  IVES 

quarter  of  a  mile.  During  this  interval,  I  have  to  direct 
your  sympathies  on  the  Vicomte  de  Saint-Yves!  All 
addressed  me  softly,  like  folk  round  a  sick-bed.  Our 
Italian  corporal,  who  had  got  a  dozen  of  oysters  from  a 
fishwife,  laid  them  at  my  feet,  as  though  I  were  a  Pagan 
idol;  and  I  have  never  since  been  wholly  at  my  ease  in 
the  society  of  shell-fish.  He  who  was  the  best  of  our 
carvers  brought  me  a  snuff-box,  which  he  had  just  com- 
pleted, and  which,  while  it  was  yet  in  hand,  he  had 
often  declared  he  would  not  part  with  under  fifteen 
dollars.  I  believe  the  piece  was  worth  the  money  too! 
And  yet  the  voice  stuck  in  my  throat  with  which  I  must 
thank  him.  I  found  myself,  in  a  word,  to  be  fed  up 
like  a  prisoner  in  a  camp  of  anthropophagi,  and  hon- 
oured like  the  sacrificial  bull.  And  what  with  these  an- 
noyances, and  the  risky  venture  immediately  ahead,  I 
found  my  part  a  trying  one  to  play. 

It  was  a  good  deal  of  a  relief  when  the  third  evening 
closed  about  the  castle  with  volumes  of  sea-fog.  The 
lights  of  Princes  Street  sometimes  disappeared,  some- 
times blinked  across  at  us  no  brighter  than  the  eyes  of 
cats;  and  five  steps  from  one  of  the  lanterns  on  the 
ramparts  it  was  already  groping  dark.  We  made  haste 
to  lie  down.  Had  our  jailers  been  upon  the  watch,  they 
must  have  observed  our  conversation  to  die  out  unusu- 
ally soon.  Yet  I  doubt  if  any  of  us  slept.  Each  lay  in 
his  place,  tortured  at  once  with  the  hope  of  liberty  and 
the  fear  of  a  hateful  death.  The  guard-call  sounded; 
the  hum  of  the  town  declined  by  little  and  little.  On 
all  sides  of  us,  in  their  different  quarters,  we  could  hear 
the  watchmen  cry  the  hours  along  the  street.  Often 
enough,  during  my  stay  in  England,  have  I  listened  to 

64 


THE   ESCAPE 

these  gruff  or  broken  voices;  or  perhaps  gone  to  my 
window  when  I  lay  sleepless,  and  watched  the  old 
gentleman  hobble  by  upon  the  causeway  with  his  cape 
and  his  cap,  his  hanger  and  his  rattle.  It  was  ever  a 
thought  with  me  how  differently  that  cry  would  re-echo 
in  the  chamber  of  lovers,  beside  the  bed  of  death,  or  in 
the  condemned  cell.  I  might  be  said  to  hear  it  that 
night  myself  in  the  condemned  cell !  At  length  a  fellow 
with  a  voice  like  a  bull's  began  to  roar  out  in  the  oppo- 
site thoroughfare : 

"  Past  yin  o'cloak,  and  a  dark,  haary  moarnin'." 

At  which  we  were  all  silently  afoot. 

As  I  stole  about  the  battlements  towards  the— gallows, 
I  was  about  to  write— the  sergeant-major,  perhaps 
doubtful  of  my  resolution,  kept  close  by  me,  and  occa- 
sionally proffered  the  most  indigestible  reassurances  in 
my  ear.     At  last  I  could  bear  them  no  longer. 

"Be  so  obliging  as  to  let  me  be!  "  said  I.  "I  am 
neither  a  coward  nor  a  fool.  What  do  you  know  of 
whether  the  rope  be  long  enough  ?  But  I  shall  know 
it  in  ten  minutes!  " 

The  good  old  fellow  laughed  in  his  moustache,  and 
patted  me. 

It  was  all  very  well  to  show  the  disposition  of  my 
temper  before  a  friend  alone;  before  my  assembled 
comrades  the  thing  had  to  go  handsomely.  It  was  then 
my  time  to  come  on  the  stage;  and  I  hope  I  took  it 
handsomely. 

"Now,  gentlemen,"  said  I,  "if  the  rope  is  ready, 
here  is  the  criminal!  " 

The  tunnel  was  cleared,  the  stake  driven,  the  rope 
extended.     As  I  moved  forward  to  the  place,  many  of 

65 


ST.  IVES 

my  comrades  caught  me  by  the  hand  and  wrung  it,  an 
attention  I  could  well  have  done  without. 

"Keep  an  eye  on  Clausel!  "  I  whispered  to  Laclas; 
and  with  that,  got  down  on  my  elbows  and  knees,  took 
the  rope  in  both  hands,  and  worked  myself,  feet  fore- 
most, through  the  tunnel.  When  the  earth  failed  under 
my  feet,  I  thought  my  heart  would  have  stopped ;  and 
a  moment  after  1  was  demeaning  myself  in  mid-air  like 
a  drunken  jumping-jack.  I  have  never  been  a  model  of 
piety,  but  at  this  juncture  prayers  and  a  cold  sweat  burst 
from  me  simultaneously. 

The  line  was  knotted  at  intervals  of  eighteen  inches ; 
and  to  the  inexpert  it  may  seem  as  if  it  should  have 
been  even  easy  to  descend.  The  trouble  was,  this  devil 
of  a  piece  of  rope  appeared  to  be  inspired,  not  with  life 
alone,  but  with  a  personal  malignity  against  myself.  It 
turned  to  the  one  side,  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then 
spun  me  like  a  toasting-jack  to  the  other;  slipped  like 
an  eel  from  the  clasp  of  my  feet;  kept  me  all  the  time 
in  the  most  outrageous  fury  of  exertion;  and  dashed 
me  at  intervals  against  the  face  of  the  rock.  I  had  no 
eyes  to  see  with ;  and  I  doubt  if  there  was  anything  to 
see  but  darkness.  I  must  occasionally  have  caught  a 
gasp  of  breath,  but  it  was  quite  unconscious.  And  the 
whole  forces  of  my  mind  were  so  consumed  with  losing 
hold  and  getting  it  again,  that  I  could  scarce  have  told 
whether  1  was  going  up  or  coming  down. 

Of  a  sudden  I  knocked  against  the  cliff  with  such  a 
thump  as  almost  bereft  me  of  my  sense;  and,  as  reason 
twinkled  back,  I  was  amazed  to  find  that  I  was  in  a 
state  of  rest,  that  the  face  of  the  precipice  here  inclined 
outwards  at  an  angle  which  relieved  me  almost  wholly 

66 


THE   ESCAPE 

of  the  burthen  of  my  own  weight,  and  that  one  of  my 
feet  was  safely  planted  on  a  ledge.  I  drew  one  of  the 
sweetest  breaths  in  my  experience,  hugged  myself 
against  the  rope,  and  closed  my  eyes  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy 
of  relief.  It  occurred  to  me  next  to  see  how  far  I  was 
advanced  on  my  unlucky  journey,  a  point  on  which  I 
had  not  a  shadow  of  a  guess.  I  looked  up :  there  was 
nothing  above  me  but  the  blackness  of  the  night  and 
the  fog.  I  craned  timidly  forward  and  looked  down. 
There,  upon  a  floor  of  darkness,  I  beheld  a  certain  pat- 
tern of  hazy  lights,  some  of  them  aligned  as  in  thor- 
oughfares, others  standing  apart  as  in  solitary  houses; 
and  before  I  could  well  realise  it,  or  had  in  the  least 
estimated  my  distance,  a  wave  of  nausea  and  vertigo 
warned  me  to  lie  back  and  close  my  eyes.  In  this  situ- 
ation I  had  really  but  the  one  wish,  and  that  was  some- 
thing else  to  think  of!  Strange  to  say,  I  got  it:  a  veil 
was  torn  from  my  mind,  and  I  saw  what  a  fool  I  was 
—what  fools  we  had  all  been— and  that  I  had  no  busi- 
ness to  be  thus  dangling  between  earth  and  heaven  by 
my  arms.  The  only  thing  to  have  done  was  to  have 
attached  me  to  a  rope  and  lowered  me,  and  I  had  never 
the  wit  to  see  it  till  that  moment! 

I  filled  my  lungs,  got  a  good  hold  on  my  rope,  and 
once  more  launched  myself  on  the  descent.  As  it 
chanced,  the  worst  of  the  danger  was  at  an  end,  and  I 
was  so  fortunate  as  to  be  never  again  exposed  to  any 
violent  concussion.  Soon  after  I  must  have  passed 
within  a  little  distance  of  a  bush  of  wallflower,  for  the 
scent  of  it  came  over  me  with  that  impression  of  reality 
which  characterises  scents  in  darkness.  This  made  me 
a  second  landmark,  the  ledge  being  my  first.     I  began 

67 


ST.  IVES 

accordingly  to  compute  intervals  of  time:  so  much  to 
the  ledge,  so  much  again  to  the  wallflower,  so  much 
more  below.  If  I  were  not  at  the  bottom  of  the  rock, 
I  calculated  I  must  be  near  indeed  to  the  end  of  the  rope, 
and  there  was  no  doubt  that  I  was  not  far  from  the  end 
of  my  own  resources.  I  began  to  be  light-headed  and 
to  be  tempted  to  let  go,— now  arguing  that  I  was  cer- 
tainly arrived  within  a  few  feet  of  the  level  and  could 
safely  risk  a  fall,  anon  persuaded  I  was  still  close  at  the 
top  and  it  was  idle  to  continue  longer  on  the  rock.  In 
the  midst  of  which  I  came  to  a  bearing  on  plain  ground, 
and  had  nearly  wept  aloud.  My  hands  were  as  good 
as  flayed,  my  courage  entirely  exhausted,  and,  what 
with  the  long  strain  and  the  sudden  relief,  my  limbs 
shook  under  me  with  more  than  the  violence  of  ague, 
and  I  was  glad  to  cling  to  the  rope. 

But  this  was  no  time  to  give  way.  I  had  (by  God's 
single  mercy)  got  myself  alive  out  of  that  fortress ;  and 
now  I  had  to  try  to  get  the  others,  my  comrades.  There 
was  about  a  fathom  of  rope  to  spare ;  I  got  it  by  the  end, 
and  searched  the  whole  ground  thoroughly  for  anything 
to  make  it  fast  to.  In  vain :  the  ground  was  broken  and 
stony,  but  there  grew  not  there  so  much  as  a  bush  of 
furze. 

"  Now,  then,"  thought  I  to  myself,"  here  begins  a  new 
lesson,  and  I  believe  it  will  prove  richer  than  the  first. 
I  am  not  strong  enough  to  keep  this  rope  extended.  If 
I  do  not  keep  it  extended  the  next  man  will  be  dashed 
against  the  precipice.  There  is  no  reason  why  he 
should  have  my  extravagant  good  luck.  I  see  no  reason 
why  he  should  not  fall— nor  any  place  for  him  to  fall  on 
but  my  head." 

68 


THE  ESCAPE 

From  where  I  was  now  standing  there  was  occasion- 
ally visible,  as  the  fog  lightened,  a  lamp  in  one  of  the 
barrack  windows,  which  gave  me  a  measure  of  the 
height  he  had  to  fall  and  the  horrid  force  that  he  must 
strike  me  with.  What  was  yet  worse,  we  had  agreed 
to  do  without  signals :  every  so  many  minutes  by  Laclas' 
watch  another  man  was  to  be  started  from  the  battle- 
ments. Now,  I  had  seemed  to  myself  to  be  about  half 
an  hour  in  my  descent,  and  it  seemed  near  as  long  again 
that  I  waited,  straining  on  the  rope,  for  my  next  com- 
rade to  begin.  1  began  to  be  afraid  that  our  conspiracy 
was  out,  that  my  friends  were  all  secured,  and  that  I 
should  pass  the  remainder  of  the  night,  and  be  discov- 
ered in  the  morning,  vainly  clinging  to  the  rope's  end 
like  a  hooked  fish  upon  an  angle.  I  could  not  refrain, 
at  this  ridiculous  image,  from  a  chuckle  of  laughter. 
And  the  next  moment  I  knew,  by  the  jerking  of  the 
rope,  that  my  friend  had  crawled  out  of  the  tunnel  and 
was  fairly  launched  on  his  descent.  It  appears  it  was 
the  sailor  who  had  insisted  on  succeeding  me:  as  soon 
as  my  continued  silence  had  assured  him  the  rope  was 
long  enough,  Gautier,  for  that  was  his  name,  had  forgot 
his  former  arguments,  and  shown  himself  so  extremely 
forward,  that  Laclas  had  given  way.  It  was  like  the 
fellow,  who  had  no  harm  in  him  beyond  an  instinctive 
selfishness.  But  he  was  like  to  have  paid  pretty  dearly 
for  the  privilege.  Do  as  I  would,  I  could  not  keep  the 
rope  as  I  could  have  wished  it;  and  he  ended  at  last  by 
falling  on  me  from  a  height  of  several  yards,  so  that  we 
both  rolled  together  on  the  ground.  As  soon  as  he 
could  breathe,  he  cursed  me  beyond  belief,  wept  over 
his  finger  which  he  had  broken,  and  cursed  me  again. 

69 


ST.  IVES 

I  bade  him  be  still  and  think  shame  to  himself  to  be  so 
great  a  cry-baby.  Did  he  not  hear  the  round  going  by 
above  ?  I  asked ;  and  who  could  tell  but  what  the  noise 
of  his  fall  was  already  remarked,  and  the  sentinels  at  the 
very  moment  leaning  upon  the  battlements  to  listen  ? 

The  round,  however,  went  by,  and  nothing  was  dis- 
covered ;  the  third  man  came  to  the  ground  quite  easily; 
the  fourth  was,  of  course,  child's  play;  and  before  there 
were  ten  of  us  collected,  it  seemed  to  me  that,  without 
the  least  injustice  to  my  comrades,  I  might  proceed  to 
take  care  of  myself. 

I  knew  their  plan:  they  had  a  map  and  an  almanac, 
and  designed  for  Grangemouth,  where  they  were  to 
steal  a  ship.  Suppose  them  to  do  so,  I  had  no  idea  they 
were  qualified  to  manage  it  after  it  was  stolen.  Their 
whole  escape,  indeed,  was  the  most  haphazard  thing 
imaginable;  only  the  impatience  of  captives  and  the  ig- 
norance of  private  soldiers  would  have  entertained  so 
misbegotten  a  device;  and  though  I  played  the  good 
comrade  and  worked  with  them  upon  the  tunnel,  but 
for  the  lawyer's  message  I  should  have  let  them  go 
without  me.  Well,  now  they  were  beyond  my  help, 
IIS  they  had  always  been  beyond  my  counselling;  and, 
without  word  said  or  leave  taken,  I  stole  out  of  the  little 
crowd.  It  is  true  I  would  rather  have  waited  to  shake 
hands  with  Laclas,  but  in  the  last  man  who  had  de- 
scended I  thought  I  recognised  Clausel,  and  since  the 
scene  in  the  shed  my  distrust  of  Clausel  was  perfect. 
I  believed  the  man  to  be  capable  of  any  infamy,  and 
events  have  since  shown  that  I  was  right. 


CHAPTER  VII 

SWANSTON   COTTAGE 

I  HAD  two  views.  The  first  was,  naturally,  to  get 
clear  of  Edinburgh  Castle  and  the  town,  to  say  nothing 
of  my  fellow-prisoners ;  the  second  to  work  to  the  south- 
ward so  long  as  it  was  night,  and  be  near  Swanston 
Cottage  by  morning.  What  I  should  do  there  and  then, 
I  had  no  guess,  and  did  not  greatly  care,  being  a  devotee 
of  a  couple  of  divinities  called  Chance  and  Circumstance. 
Prepare,  if  possible;  where  it  is  impossible,  work  straight 
forward,  and  keep  your  eyes  open  and  your  tongue 
oiled.  Wit  and  a  good  exterior— there  is  all  life  in  a 
nutshell. 

I  had  at  first  a  rather  chequered  journey:  got  involved 
in  gardens,  butted  into  houses,  and  had  once  even  the 
misfortune  to  awake  a  sleeping  family,  the  father  of 
which,  as  I  suppose,  menaced  me  from  the  window 
with  a  blunderbuss.  Altogether,  though  I  had  been 
some  time  gone  from  my  companions,  I  was  still  at  no 
great  distance,  when  a  miserable  accident  put  a  period 
to  the  escape.  Of  a  sudden  the  night  was  divided  by  a 
scream.  This  was  followed  by  the  sound  of  something 
falling,  and  that  again  by  the  report  of  a  musket  from 
the  castle  battlements.     It  was  strange  to  hear  the  alarm 

V 


ST.  IVES 

spread  through  the  city.  In  the  fortress  drums  were 
beat  and  a  bell  rung  backward.  On  all  hands  the  watch- 
men sprang  their  rattles.  Even  in  that  limbo  or  no- 
man's-land  where  I  was  wandering,  lights  were  made 
in  the  houses;  sashes  were  flung  up;  I  could  hear  neigh- 
bouring families  converse  from  window  to  window,  and 
at  length  I  was  challenged  myself. 

"  Wha's  that  ?  "  cried  a  big  voice. 

I  could  see  it  proceeded  from  a  big  man  in  a  big  night- 
cap, leaning  from  a  one-pair  window ;  and  as  I  was  not 
yet  abreast  of  his  house,  I  judged  it  was  more  wise  to 
answer.  This  was  not  the  first  time  I  had  had  to  stake 
my  fortunes  on  the  goodness  of  my  accent  in  a  foreign 
tongue;  and  I  have  always  found  the  moment  inspiriting, 
as  a  gambler  should.  Pulling  around  me  a  sort  of  great- 
coat I  had  made  of  my  blanket,  to  cover  my  sulphur- 
coloured  livery,— "A  friend!"  said  I. 

"  What  like's  all  this  collieshangie  ?  "  said  he. 

I  had  never  heard  of  a  collieshangie  in  my  days,  but 
with  the  racket  all  about  us  in  the  city,  I  could  have  no 
doubt  as  to  the  man's  meaning. 

"I  do  not  know,  sir,  really,"  said  I;  "but  I  suppose 
some  of  the  prisoners  will  have  escaped." 

"Bedamned!  "  says  he. 

"O,  sir,  they  will  be  soon  taken,"  I  replied:  "it  has 
been  found  in  time.     Good  morning,  sir!  " 

"  Ye  walk  late,  sir  ?  "  he  added. 

"O,  surely  not,"  said  I,  with  a  laugh.  "  Earlyish,  if 
you  like!  "  which  brought  me  finally  beyond  him,  highly 
pleased  with  my  success. 

I  was  now  come  forth  on  a  good  thoroughfare,  which 
led  (as  well  as  I  could  judge)  in  my  direction.     It 

73 


SWANSTON   COTTAGE 

brought  me  almost  immediately  through  a  piece  of 
street,  whence  I  could  hear  close  by  the  springing  of  a 
watchman's  rattle,  and  where  I  suppose  a  sixth  part  of 
the  windows  would  be  open,  and  the  people,  in  all  sorts 
of  night-gear,  talking  with  a  kind  of  tragic  gusto  from 
one  to  another.  Here,  again,  I  must  run  the  gantlet 
of  a  half-dozen  questions,  the  rattle  all  the  while  sound- 
ing nearer;  but  as  I  was  not  walking  inordinately  quick, 
as  I  spoke  like  a  gentleman,  and  the  lamps  were  too  dim 
to  show  my  dress,  I  carried  it  off  once  more.  One  per- 
son, indeed,  inquired  where  I  was  off  to  at  that  hour. 

I  replied  vaguely  and  cheerfully,  and  as  I  escaped  at 
one  end  of  this  dangerous  pass  I  could  see  the  watch- 
man's lantern  entering  by  the  other.  I  was  now  safe 
on  a  dark  country  highway,  out  of  sight  of  lights  and 
out  of  the  fear  of  watchmen.  And  yet  I  had  not  gone 
above  a  hundred  yards  before  a  fellow  made  an  ugly 
rush  at  me  from  the  roadside.  I  avoided  him  with  a 
leap,  and  stood  on  guard,  cursing  my  empty  hands, 
wondering  whether  I  had  to  do  with  an  officer  or  a  mere 
footpad,  and  scarce  knowing  which  to  wish.  My  as- 
sailant stood  a  little;  in  the  thick  darkness  I  could  see 
him  bob  and  sidle  as  though  he  were  feinting  at  me  for 
an  advantageous  onfall.     Then  he  spoke. 

"My  goo'  frien',"  says  he,  and  at  the  first  word  I 
pricked  my  ears,  "  my  goo'  frien',  will  you  oblishe  me 
with  lil  neshary  infamation  ?    Whish  roa'  t'  Cramond  ?  " 

I  laughed  out  clear  and  loud,  stepped  up  to  the  con- 
vivialist,  took  him  by  the  shoulders  and  faced  him 
about  "My  good  friend,"  said  I,  "I  believe  I  know 
what  is  best  for  you  much  better  than  yourself,  and 
may  God  forgive  you  the  fright  you  have  given  me  I 

73 


ST.  IVES 

There,  get  you  gone  to  Edinburgh!  "  And  I  gave  him 
a  shove,  which  he  obeyed  with  the  passive  agility  of  a 
ball,  and  disappeared  incontinently  in  the  darkness  down 
the  road  by  which  I  had  myself  come. 

Once  clear  of  this  foolish  fellow,  I  went  on  again  up 
a  gradual  hill,  descended  on  the  other  side  through  the 
houses  of  a  country  village,  and  came  at  last  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  main  ascent  leading  to  the  Pentlands  and  my 
destination.  I  was  some  way  up  when  the  fog  began 
to  lighten ;  a  little  farther,  and  I  stepped  by  degrees  into 
a  clear  starry  night,  and  saw  in  front  of  me,  and  quite 
distinct,  the  summits  of  the  Pentlands,  and  behind,  the 
valley  of  the  Forth  and  the  city  of  my  late  captivity 
buried  under  a  lake  of  vapour.  I  had  but  one  encounter 
—that  of  a  farm-cart,  which  I  heard,  from  a  great  way 
ahead  of  me,  creaking  nearer  in  the  night,  and  which 
passed  me  about  the  point  of  dawn  like  a  thing  seen  in 
a  dream,  with  two  silent  figures  in  the  inside  nodding 
to  the  horse's  steps.  I  presume  they  were  asleep ;  by 
the  shawl  about  her  head  and  shoulders,  one  of  them 
should  be  a  woman.  Soon,  by  concurrent  steps,  the 
day  began  to  break  and  the  fog  to  subside  and  roll  away. 
The  east  grew  luminous  and  was  barred  with  chilly 
colours,  and  the  castle  on  its  rock,  and  the  spires  and 
chimneys  of  the  upper  town,  took  gradual  shape,  and 
arose,  like  islands,  out  of  the  receding  cloud.  All  about 
me  was  still  and  sylvan;  the  road  mounting  and  wind- 
ing, with  nowhere  a  sign  of  any  passenger,  the  birds 
chirping,  I  suppose  for  warmth,  the  boughs  of  the  trees 
knocking  together,  and  the  red  leaves  falling  in  the  wind. 

It  was  broad  day,  but  still  bitter  cold  and  the  sun  not 
up,  when  I  came  in  view  of  my  destination.     A  single 

74 


SWANSTON   COTTAGE 

gable  and  chimney  of  the  cottage  peeped  over  the 
shoulder  of  the  hill;  not  far  off,  and  a  trifle  higher  on 
the  mountain,  a  tall  old  whitewashed  farm-house  stood 
among  trees,  beside  a  falling  brook ;  beyond  were  rough 
hills  of  pasture.  I  bethought  me  that  shepherd  folk 
were  early  risers,  and  if  I  were  once  seen  skulking  in 
that  neighbourhood  it  might  prove  the  ruin  of  my 
prospects;  took  advantage  of  a  line  of  hedge,  and 
worked  myself  up  in  its  shadow  till  I  was  come  under 
the  garden  wall  of  my  friends'  house.  The  cottage  was 
a  little  quaint  place  of  many  rough-cast  gables  and  grey 
roofs.  It  had  something  the  air  of  a  rambling  infinites- 
imal cathedral,  the  body  of  it  rising  in  the  midst  two 
stories  high,  with  a  steep-pitched  roof,  and  sending  out 
upon  all  hands  (as  it  were  chapter-houses,  chapels,  and 
transepts)  one-storied  and  dwarfish  projections.  To 
add  to  this  appearance,  it  was  grotesquely  decorated 
with  crockets  and  gargoyles,  ravished  from  some  medi- 
aeval church.  The  place  seemed  hidden  away,  being 
not  only  concealed  in  the  trees  of  the  garden,  but,  on 
the  side  on  which  I  approached  it,  buried  as  high  as  the 
eaves  by  the  rising  of  the  ground.  About  the  walls  of 
the  garden  there  went  a  line  of  well-grown  elms  and 
beeches,  the  first  entirely  bare,  the  last  still  pretty  well 
covered  with  red  leaves,  and  the  centre  was  occupied 
with  a  thicket  of  laurel  and  holly,  in  which  I  could  see 
arches  cut  and  paths  winding. 

I  was  now  within  hail  of  my  friends,  and  not  much 
the  better.  The  house  appeared  asleep;  yet  if  I  at- 
tempted to  wake  any  one,  I  had  no  guarantee  it  might 
not  prove  either  the  aunt  with  the  gold  eye-glasses 
(whom  I  could  only  remember  with  trembling),  or  some 

75 


ST.  IVES 

ass  of  a  servant-maid  who  should  burst  out  screaming 
at  sight  of  me.  Higher  up  I  could  hear  and  see  a  shep- 
herd shouting  to  his  dogs  and  striding  on  the  rough 
sides  of  the  mountain,  and  it  was  clear  I  must  get  to 
cover  without  loss  of  time.  No  doubt  the  holly  thickets 
would  have  proved  a  very  suitable  retreat,  but  there  was 
mounted  on  the  wall  a  sort  of  signboard  not  uncom- 
mon in  the  country  of  Great  Britain,  and  very  damping 
to  the  adventurous :  "  Spring  Guns  and  Man-Traps  "  was 
the  legend  that  it  bore.  I  have  learned  since  that  these 
advertisements,  three  times  out  of  four,  were  in  the 
nature  of  Quaker  guns  on  a  disarmed  battery,  but  I  had 
not  learned  it  then,  and  even  so,  the  odds  would  not 
have  been  good  enough.  For  a  choice,  I  would  a  hun- 
dred times  sooner  be  returned  to  Edinburgh  Castle  and 
my  corner  in  the  bastion,  than  to  leave  my  foot  in  a 
steel  trap  or  have  to  digest  the  contents  of  an  automatic 
blunderbuss.  There  was  but  one  chance  left— that 
Ronald  or  Flora  might  be  the  first  to  come  abroad ;  and 
in  order  to  profit  by  this  chance  if  it  occurred,  I  got  me 
on  the  cope  of  the  wall  in  a  place  where  it  was  screened 
by  the  thick  branches  of  a  beech,  and  sat  there  waiting. 
As  the  day  wore  on,  the  sun  came  very  pleasantly 
out.  I  had  been  awake  all  night,  I  had  undergone  the 
most  violent  agitations  of  mind  and  body,  and  it  is  not 
so  much  to  be  wondered  at,  as  it  was  exceedingly  unwise 
and  foolhardy,  that  I  should  have  dropped  into  a  doze. 
From  this  I  awakened  to  the  characteristic  sound  of  dig- 
ging, looked  down,  and  saw  immediately  below  me  the 
back  view  of  a  gardener  in  a  stable  waistcoat.  Now 
he  would  appear  steadily  immersed  in  his  business; 
anon,  to  my  more  immediate  terror,  he  would  straighten 

76 


SWANSTON   COTTAGE 

his  back,  stretch  his  arms,  gaze  about  the  otherwise 
deserted  garden,  and  relish  a  deep  pinch  of  snuff.  It 
was  my  first  thought  to  drop  from  the  wall  upon  the 
other  side.  A  glance  sufficed  to  show  me  that  even  the 
way  by  which  I  had  come  was  now  cut  off,  and  the 
field  behind  me  already  occupied  by  a  couple  of  shep- 
herds' assistants  and  a  score  or  two  of  sheep.  I  have 
named  the  talismans  on  which  I  habitually  depend,  but 
here  was  a  conjuncture  in  which  both  were  wholly  use- 
less. The  copestone  of  a  wall  arrayed  with  broken 
bottles  is  no  favourable  rostrum ;  and  I  might  be  as  elo- 
quent as  Pitt,  and  as  fascinating  as  Richelieu,  and  neither 
the  gardener  nor  the  shepherd  lads  would  care  a  half- 
penny. In  short,  there  was  no  escape  possible  from 
my  absurd  position :  there  I  must  continue  to  sit  until 
one  or  other  of  my  neighbours  should  raise  his  eyes  and 
give  the  signal  for  my  capture. 

The  part  of  the  wall  on  which  (for  my  sins)  I  was 
posted  could  be  scarce  less  than  twelve  feet  high  on  the 
inside;  the  leaves  of  the  beech  which  made  a  fashion  of 
sheltering  me  were  already  partly  fallen ;  and  I  was  thus 
not  only  perilously  exposed  myself,  but  enabled  to  com- 
mand some  part  of  the  garden  walks  and  (under  an 
evergreen  arch)  the  front  lawn  and  windows  of  the 
cottage.  For  long  nothing  stirred  except  my  friend 
with  the  spade;  then  I  heard  the  opening  of  a  sash; 
and  presently  after  saw  Miss  Flora  appear  in  a  morning 
wrapper  and  come  strolling  hitherward  between  the 
borders,  pausing  and  visiting  her  flowers— herself  as  fair. 
There  was  a  friend ;  here,  immediately  beneath  me,  an 
unknown  quantity— the  gardener:  how  to  communicate 
with  the  one  and  not  attract  the  notice  of  the  other  ? 

77 


ST.  IVES 

To  make  a  noise  was  out  of  the  question ;  I  dared  scarce 
to  breathe.  I  held  myself  ready  to  make  a  gesture  as 
soon  as  she  should  look,  and  she  looked  in  every  pos- 
sible direction  but  the  one.  She  was  interested  in  the 
vilest  tuft  of  chickweed,  she  gazed  at  the  summit  of  the 
mountain,  she  came  even  immediately  below  me  and 
conversed  on  the  most  fastidious  topics  with  the  gar- 
dener; but  to  the  top  of  that  wall  she  would  not  dedi- 
cate a  glance!  At  last  she  began  to  retrace  her  steps  in 
the  direction  of  the  cottage;  whereupon,  becoming  quite 
desperate,  I  broke  off  a  piece  of  plaster,  took  a  happy 
aim,  and  hit  her  with  it  in  the  nape  of  the  neck.  She 
clapped  her  hand  to  the  place,  turned  about,  looked  on 
all  sides  for  an  explanation,  and  spying  me  (as  indeed  I 
was  parting  the  branches  to  make  it  the  more  easy), 
half  uttered  and  half  swallowed  down  again  a  cry  of 
surprise. 

The  infernal  gardener  was  erect  upon  the  instant. 
"  What's  your  wull,  miss  ?  "  said  he. 

Her  readiness  amazed  me.  She  had  already  turned 
and  was  gazing  in  the  opposite  direction.  "  There's  a 
child  among  the  artichokes,"  she  said. 

"  The  Plagues  of  Egyp' !  /'//  see  to  them !  "  cried  the 
gardener  truculently,  and  with  a  hurried  waddle  disap- 
peared among  the  evergreens. 

That  moment  she  turned,  she  came  running  towards 
me,  her  arms  stretched  out,  her  face  incarnadined  for 
the  one  moment  with  heavenly  blushes,  the  next  pale 
as  death.     "  M.  de  Saint- Yves!  "  she  said. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  I  said,  "  this  is  the  damnedest 
liberty— I  know  it!     But  what  else  was  I  to  do  ?  "   * 

"  You  have  escaped  ?  "  said  she. 

78 


SWANSTON   COTTAGE 

*'  If  you  call  this  escape,"  I  replied. 

"  But  you  cannot  possibly  stop  there!  "  she  cried. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  I.     "  And  where  am  I  to  go  ?  " 

She  struck  her  hands  together.  "I  have  it!"  she 
exclaimed.  "  Come  down  by  the  beech  trunk— you 
must  leave  no  footprint  in  the  border— quickly,  before 
Robie  can  get  back !  I  am  the  hen-wife  here :  I  keep 
the  key;  you  must  go  into  the  hen-house— for  the  mo- 
ment." 

I  was  by  her  side  at  once.  Both  cast  a  hasty  glance 
at  the  blank  windows  of  the  cottage  and  so  much  as 
was  visible  of  the  garden  alleys;  it  seemed  there  was 
none  to  observe  us.  She  caught  me  by  the  sleeve  and 
ran.  It  was  no  time  for  compliments;  hurry  breathed 
upon  our  necks ;  and  I  ran  along  with  her  to  the  next 
corner  of  the  garden,  where  a  wired  court  and  a  board 
hovel  standing  in  a  grove  of  trees  advertised  my  place 
of  refuge.  She  thrust  me  in  without  a  word ;  the  bulk 
of  the  fowls  were  at  the  same  time  emitted ;  and  I  found 
myself  the  next  moment  locked  in  alone  with  half  a 
dozen  sitting  hens.  In  the  twilight  of  the  place  all  fixed 
their  eyes  on  me  severely,  and  seemed  to  upbraid  me 
>vith  some  crying  impropriety.  Doubtless  the  hen  has 
always  a  puritanic  appearance,  although  (in  its  own 
behaviour)  1  could  never  observe  it  to  be  more  particular 
than  its  neighbours.     But  conceive  a  British  hen ! 


79 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  HEN-HOUSE 

I  WAS  half  an  hour  at  least  in  the  society  of  these  dis- 
tressing bipeds,  and  alone  with  my  own  reflections  and 
necessities.  1  was  in  great  pain  of  my  flayed  hands, 
and  had  nothing  to  treat  them  with ;  I  was  hungry  and 
thirsty,  and  had  nothing  to  eat  or  to  drink ;  I  was  thor- 
oughly tired,  and  there  was  no  place  for  me  to  sit.  To 
be  sure  there  was  the  floor,  but  nothing  could  be  ima- 
gined less  inviting. 

At  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  my  good- 
humour  was  restored.  The  key  rattled  in  the  lock,  and 
Master  Ronald  entered,  closed  the  door  behind  him, 
and  leaned  his  back  to  it. 

"I  say,  you  know!  "  he  said,  and  shook  a  sullen 
young  head. 

"  I  know  it's  a  liberty,"  said  I. 

"  It's  infernally  awkward ;  my  position  is  infernally 
embarrassing,"  said  he. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "and  what  do  you  think  of  mine?  " 

This  seemed  to  pose  him  entirely,  and  he  remained 
gazing  upon  me  with  a  convincing  air  of  youth  and  in- 
nocence. I  could  have  laughed,  but  I  was  not  so  in- 
humane. 

80 


THE  HEN-HOUSE 

"I  am  in  your  hands,"  said  I,  with  a  little  gesture. 
"  You  must  do  with  me  what  you  think  right." 

"Ah,  yes!  "  he  cried:  "if  I  knew!  " 

"  You  see,"  said  I,  "it  would  be  different  if  you  had 
received  your  commission.  Properly  speaking,  you  are 
not  yet  a  combatant;  I  have  ceased  to  be  one;  and  I 
think  it  arguable  that  we  are  just  in  the  position  of  one 
ordinary  gentleman  to  another,  where  friendship  usually 
comes  before  the  law.  Observe,  I  only  say  arguable. 
For  God's  sake,  don't  think  I  wish  to  dictate  an  opinion. 
These  are  the  sort  of  nasty  little  businesses,  inseparable 
from  war,  which  every  gentleman  must  decide  for  him- 
self.    If  I  were  in  your  place—" 

"  Ay,  what  would  you  do,  then  ?  "  says  he. 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  do  not  know,"  said  I.  "  Hesitate, 
as  you  are  doing,  I  believe." 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  said.  "  I  have  a  kinsman,  and  it 
is  what  he  would  think,  that  I  am  thinking.  It  is  Gen- 
eral Graham  of  Lynedoch— Sir  Thomas  Graham.  I 
scarcely  know  him,  but  I  believe  I  admire  him  more 
than  I  do  God." 

"  I  admire  him  a  good  deal  myself,"  said  I,  "  and  have 
good  reason  to.  I  have  fought  with  him,  been  beaten, 
and  run  away,     yeni,  victus  sum,  evasi." 

"  What!  "  he  cried.     "  You  were  at  Barossa  ?  " 

"  There  and  back,  which  many  could  not  say,"  said  I. 
"  It  was  a  pretty  affair  and  a  hot  one,  and  the  Spaniards 
behaved  abominably,  as  they  usually  did  in  a  pitched 
field ;  the  Marshal  Duke  of  Belluno  made  a  fool  of  him- 
self, and  not  for  the  first  time;  and  your  friend  Sir 
Thomas  had  the  best  of  it,  so  far  as  there  was  any  best. 
He  is  a  brave  and  ready  officer." 

8i 


ST.  IVES 

"  Now,  then,  you  will  understand !  "  said  the  boy. 
"  I  wish  to  please  Sir  Thomas :  what  would  he  do  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  can  tell  you  a  story,"  said  I,  "  a  true  one  too, 
and  about  this  very  combat  of  Chiclana,  or  Barossa  as 
you  call  it.  I  was  in  the  Eighth  of  the  Line;  we  lost 
the  eagle  of  the  First  Battalion,  more  betoken,  but  it  cost 
you  dear.  Well,  we  had  repulsed  more  charges  than  I 
care  to  count,  when  your  87th  Regiment  came  on  at  a 
foot's  pace,  very  slow  but  very  steady ;  in  front  of  them 
a  mounted  officer,  his  hat  in  his  hand,  white-haired,  and 
talking  very  quietly  to  the  battalions.  Our  major,  Vigo- 
Roussillon,  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  galloped  out  to 
sabre  him,  but  seeing  him  an  old  man,  very  handsome, 
and  as  composed  as  if  he  were  in  a  coffee-house,  lost 
heart  and  galloped  back  again.  Only,  you  see,  they  had 
been  very  close  together  for  the  moment,  and  looked 
each  other  in  the  eyes.  Soon  after  the  major  was 
wounded,  taken  prisoner,  and  carried  into  Cadiz.  One 
fine  day  they  announced  to  him  the  visit  of  the  general. 
Sir  Thomas  Graham.  *  Well,  sir,'  said  the  general,  tak- 
ing him  by  the  hand,  *  I  think  we  were  face  to  face  upon 
the  field.'     It  was  the  white-haired  officer!  " 

"Ah!"  cried  the  boy,— his  eyes  were  burning. 

"Well,  and  here  is  the  point,"  I  continued.  "Sir 
Thomas  fed  the  major  from  his  own  table  from  that 
day,  and  served  him  with  six  covers." 

"Yes,  it  is  a  beautiful— a  beautiful  story,"  said  Ron- 
ald.    "  And  yet  somehow  it  is  not  the  same— is  it  ?  " 

"  I  admit  it  freely,"  said  I. 

The  boy  stood  awhile  brooding.  "  Well,  I  take  my 
risk  of  it,"  he  cried.  "  I  believe  it's  treason  to  my  sov- 
ereign—I believe  there  is  an  infamous  punishment  for 

82 


THE   HEN-HOUSE 

such  a  crime—and  yet  I'm  hanged  if  I  can  give  you 
up." 

I  was  as  much  moved  as  he.  "I  could  almost  beg 
you  to  do  otherwise,"  I  said.  "  I  was  a  brute  to  come 
to  you,  a  brute  and  a  coward.  You  are  a  noble  enemy ; 
you  will  make  a  noble  soldier."  And  with  rather  a 
happy  idea  of  a  compliment  for  this  warlike  youth,  1 
stood  up  straight  and  gave  him  the  salute. 

He  was  for  a  moment  confused;  his  face  flushed. 
"  Well,  well,  I  must  be  getting  you  something  to  eat, 
but  it  will  not  be  for  six,"  he  added,  with  a  smile: 
"only  what  we  can  get  smuggled  out.  There  is  my 
aunt  in  the  road,  you  see,"  and  he  locked  me  in  again 
with  the  indignant  hens. 

I  always  smile  when  I  recall  that  young  fellow ;  and 
yet,  if  the  reader  were  to  smile  also,  I  should  feel 
ashamed.  If  my  son  shall  be  only  like  him  when  he 
comes  to  that  age,  it  will  be  a  brave  day  for  me  and  not 
a  bad  one  for  France. 

At  the  same  time  I  cannot  pretend  that  I  was  sorry 
when  his  sister  succeeded  in  his  place.  She  brought  me 
a  few  crusts  of  bread  and  a  jug  of  milk,  which  she  had 
handsomely  lacedwith  whiskey  aftertheScottish  manner. 

"I  am  so  sorry,"  she  said:  "I  dared  not  bring  you 
anything  more.  We  are  so  small  a  family,  and  my  aunt 
keeps  such  an  eye  upon  the  servants.  I  have  put  some 
whiskey  in  the  milk— it  is  more  wholesome  so— and  with 
eggs  you  will  be  able  to  make  something  of  a  meal. 
How  many  eggs  will  you  be  wanting  to  that  milk  ?  for 
I  must  be  taking  the  others  to  my  aunt— that  is  my  ex- 
cuse for  being  here.  I  should  think  three  or  four.  Do 
you  know  how  to  beat  them  in  ?  or  shall  I  do  it  ?  " 

83 


ST.  IVES 

Willing  to  detain  her  awhile  longer  in  the  hen-house, 
I  displayed  my  bleeding  palms;  at  which  she  cried  out 
aloud. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Flora,  you  cannot  make  an  omelette 
without  breaking  eggs,"  said  I;  "and  it  is  no  bagatelle 
to  escape  from  Edinburgh  Castle.  One  of  us,  I  think, 
was  even  killed." 

"And  you  are  as  white  as  a  rag,  too,"  she  exclaimed, 
"  and  can  hardly  stand !  Here  is  my  shawl ;  sit  down 
upon  it  here  in  the  corner,  and  I  will  beat  your  eggs. 
See,  I  have  brought  a  fork  too;  1  should  have  been  a 
good  person  to  take  care  of  Jacobites  or  Covenanters  in 
old  days!  You  shall  have  more  to  eat  this  evening; 
Ronald  is  to  bring  it  you  from  town.  We  have  money 
enough,  although  no  food  that  we  can  call  our  own. 
Ah,  if  Ronald  and  I  kept  house,  you  should  not  be  lying 
in  this  shed!     He  admires  you  so  much." 

"  My  dear  friend,"  said  1,  "  for  God's  sake  do  not  em- 
barrass me  with  more  alms.  I  loved  to  receive  them 
from  that  hand,  so  long  as  they  were  needed ;  but  they 
are  so  no  more,  and  whatever  else  1  may  lack— and  1 
lack  everything— it  is  not  money."  I  pulled  out  my 
sheaf  of  notes  and  detached  the  top  one:  it  was  written 
for  ten  pounds,  and  signed  by  that  very  famous  indi- 
vidual, Abraham  Newlands.  "  Oblige  me,  as  you  would 
like  me  to  oblige  your  brother  if  the  parts  were  reversed, 
and  take  this  note  for  the  expenses.  I  shall  need  not 
only  food,  but  clothes." 

"  Lay  it  on  the  ground,"  said  she.  "  I  must  not  stop 
my  beating." 

"  You  are  not  offended  ?  "  I  exclaimed. 

She  answered  me  by  a  look  that  was  a  reward  in 

8.1 


THE  HEN-HOUSE 

itself,  and  seemed  to  imply  the  most  heavenly  offers  for 
the  future.  There  was  in  it  a  shadow  of  reproach,  and 
such  warmth  of  communicative  cordiality  as  left  me 
speechless.  I  watched  her  instead  till  her  hens'  milk 
was  ready. 

"Now,"  said  she,  "taste  that." 

I  did  so,  and  swore  it  was  nectar.  She  collected  her 
eggs  and  crouched  in  front  of  me  to  watch  me  eat. 
There  was  about  this  tall  young  lady  at  the  moment  an 
air  of  motherliness  delicious  to  behold.  I  am  like  the 
English  general,  and  to  this  day  I  still  wonder  at  my 
moderation. 

"  What  sort  of  clothes  will  you  be  wanting  ?  "  said  she. 

"The  clothes  of  a  gentleman,"  said  1.  "Right  or 
wrong,  I  think  it  is  the  part  I  am  best  qualified  to  play. 
Mr.  St.  Ives  (for  that's  to  be  my  name  upon  the  journey) 
I  conceive  as  rather  a  theatrical  figure,  and  his  make-up 
should  be  to  match." 

"And  yet  there  is  a  difficulty,"  said  she.  "If  you 
got  coarse  clothes  the  fit  would  hardly  matter.  But  the 
clothes  of  a  fine  gentleman— O,  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
that  these  should  fit!  And  above  all,  with  your"— she 
paused  a  moment— "to  our  idea  somewhat  noticeable 
manners." 

"  Alas  for  my  poor  manners !  "  said  I.  "  But,  my  dear 
friend  Flora,  these  little  noticeabilities  are  just  what 
mankind  has  to  suffer  under.  Yourself,  you  see,  you're 
very  noticeable  even  when  you  come  in  a  crowd  to  visit 
poor  prisoners  in  the  castle." 

I  was  afraid  I  should  frighten  my  good  angel  visitant 
away,  and  without  the  smallest  breath  of  pause  went  on 
to  add  a  few  directions  as  to  stuffs  and  colours. 

85 


ST.  IVES 

She  opened  big  eyes  upon  me.  "O,  Mr.  St.  Ives!  " 
she  cried—"  if  that  is  to  be  your  name— I  do  not  say  they 
would  not  be  becoming;  but  for  a  journey,  do  you  think 
they  would  be  wise  ?  I  am  afraid  "—she  gave  a  pretty 
break  of  laughter—"  I  am  afraid  they  would  be  daft- 
like!  " 

"  Well,  and  am  1  not  daft  ?  "  I  asked  her. 

"  I  do  begin  to  think  you  are,"  said  she. 

"There  it  is,  then!"  said  I.  "I  have  been  long 
enough  a  figure  of  fun.  Can  you  not  feel  with  me  that 
perhaps  the  bitterest  thing  in  this  captivity  has  been  the 
clothes  ?  Make  me  a  captive— bind  me  with  chains  if 
you  like— but  let  me  be  still  myself.  You  do  not  know 
what  it  is  to  be  a  walking  travesty— among  foes,"  I 
added  bitterly. 

"  O,  but  you  are  too  unjust !  "  she  cried.  "  You  speak 
as  though  any  one  ever  dreamed  of  laughing  at  you. 
But  no  one  did.  We  were  all  pained  to  the  heart. 
Even  my  aunt— though  sometimes  I  do  think  she  was 
not  quite  in  good  taste— you  should  have  seen  her  and 
heard  her  at  home !  She  took  so  much  interest.  Every 
patch  in  your  clothes  made  us  sorry ;  it  should  have  been 
a  sister's  work." 

"That  is  what  I  never  had— a  sister,"  said  I.  "But 
since  you  say  that  I  did  not  make  you  laugh—" 

"O,  Mr.  St.  Ives!  never!  "she  exclaimed.  "Not for 
one  moment.  It  was  all  too  sad.  To  see  a  gentle- 
man—" 

"  In  the  clothes  of  a  harlequin,  and  begging  ?  "  I  sug- 
gested. 

"  To  see  a  gentleman  in  distress,  and  nobly  support- 
ing it,"  she  said. 

86 


THE  HEN-HOUSE 

"And  do  you  not  understand,  my  fair  foe,"  said  I, 
"that  even  if  all  were  as  you  say— even  if  you  had 
thought  my  travesty  were  becoming— I  should  be  only 
the  more  anxious,  for  my  sake,  for  my  country's  sake, 
and  for  the  sake  of  your  kindness,  that  you  should  see 
him  whom  you  have  helped  as  God  meant  him  to  be 
seen  ?  that  you  should  have  something  to  remember 
him  by  at  least  more  characteristic  than  a  misfitting  sul- 
phur-yellow suit,  and  half  a  week's  beard  ?  " 

"You  think  a  great  deal  too  much  of  clothes,"  she 
said.     "  I  am  not  that  kind  of  girl." 

"And  I'm  afraid  I  am  that  kind  of  a  man,"  said  I. 
"  But  do  not  think  of  me  too  harshly  for  that.  I  talked 
just  now  of  something  to  remember  by.  I  have  many 
of  them  myself,  of  these  beautiful  reminders,  of  these 
keepsakes,  that  I  cannot  be  parted  from  until  I  lose 
memory  and  life.  Many  of  them  are  great  things, 
many  of  them  are  high  virtues— charity,  mercy,  faith. 
But  some  of  them  are  trivial  enough.  Miss  Flora,  do 
you  remember  the  day  that  I*  first  saw  you,  the  day  of 
the  strong  east  wind  ?  Miss  Flora,  shall  I  tell  you  what 
you  wore  ?  " 

We  had  both  risen  to  our  feet,  and  she  had  her  hand 
already  on  the  door  to  go.  Perhaps  this  attitude  em- 
boldened me  to  profit  by  the  last  seconds  of  our  inter- 
view; and  it  certainly  rendered  her  escape  the  more 
easy. 

"  O,  you  are  too  romantic!  "  she  said,  laughing;  and 
with  that  my  sun  was  blown  out,  my  enchantress  had 
fled  away,  and  I  was  again  left  alone  in  the  twilight 
with  the  lady  hens. 


87 


CHAPTER  IX 

THREE   IS  COMPANY,    AND   FOUR   NONE 

The  rest  of  the  day  I  slept  in  the  corner  of  the  hen- 
house upon  Flora's  shawl.  Nor  did  I  awake  until  a  light 
shone  suddenly  in  my  eyes,  and  starting  up  with  a  gasp 
{for,  indeed,  at  the  moment  I  dreamed  I  was  still  swing- 
ing from  the  castle  battlements)  I  found  Ronald  bending 
over  me  with  a  lantern.  It  appeared  it  was  past  mid- 
night, that  I  had  slept  about  sixteen  hours,  and  that 
Flora  had  returned  her  poultry  to  the  shed  and  I  had 
heard  her  not.  I  could  not  but  wonder  if  she  had 
stooped  to  look  at  me  as  I  slept.  The  puritan  hens  now 
slept  irremediably;  and  being  cheered  with  the  promise 
of  supper  I  wished  them  an  ironical  good  night,  and 
was  lighted  across  the  garden  and  noiselessly  admitted 
to  a  bedroom  on  the  ground  floor  of  the  cottage.  There 
I  found  soap,  water,  razors— offered  me  diffidently  by 
my  beardless  host— and  an  outfit  of  new  clothes.  To 
be  shaved  again  without  depending  on  the  barber  of  the 
jail  was  a  source  of  a  delicious,  if  a  childish  joy.  My 
hair  was  sadly  too  long,  but  I  was  none  so  unwise  as  to 
make  an  attempt  on  it  myself.  And,  indeed,  I  thought 
it  did  not  wholly  misbecome  me  as  it  was,  being  by 
nature  curly.     The  clothes  were  about  as  good  as  I  ex- 

88 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND   FOUR  NONE 

pected.  The  waistcoat  was  of  toilinette,  a  pretty  piece, 
the  trousers  of  fine  kerseymere,  and  the  coat  sat  extraor- 
dinarily well.  Altogether,  when  I  beheld  this  change- 
ling in  the  glass,  I  kissed  my  hand  to  him. 

**  My  dear  fellow,"  said  I,  "  have  you  no  scent  ?  " 

"Good  God,  no!"  cried  Ronald.  "What  do  you 
want  with  scent  ?  " 

"Capital  thing  on  a  campaign,"  said  I.  "But  I  can 
do  without." 

I  was  now  led,  with  the  same  precautions  against 
noise,  into  the  little  bow-windowed  dining-room  of  the 
cottage.  The  shutters  were  up,  the  lamp  guiltily  turned 
low;  the  beautiful  Flora  greeted  me  in  a  whisper;  and 
when  I  was  set  down  to  table,  the  pair  proceeded  to 
help  me  with  precautions  that  might  have  seemed  ex- 
cessive in  the  Ear  of  Dionysius. 

"She  sleeps  up  there,"  observed  the  boy,  pointing  to 
the  ceiling;  and  the  knowledge  that  I  was  so  imminently 
near  to  the  resting-place  of  that  gold  eye-glass  touched 
even  myself  with  some  uneasiness. 

Our  excellent  youth  had  imported  from  the  city  a 
meat-pie,  and  I  was  glad  to  find  it  flanked  with  a  de- 
canter of  really  admirable  wine  of  Oporto.  While  I  ate, 
Ronald  entertained  me  with  the  news  of  the  city,  which 
had  naturally  rung  all  day  with  our  escape :  troops  and 
mounted  messengers  had  followed  each  other  forth  at 
all  hours  and  in  all  directions ;  but  according  to  the  last 
intelligence  no  recapture  had  been  made.  Opinion  in 
town  was  very  favourable  to  us,  our  courage  was  ap- 
plauded, and  many  professed  regret  that  our  ultimate 
chance  of  escape  should  be  so  small.  The  man  who 
had  fallen  was  one  Sombref,  a  peasant;  he  was  one  who 

89 


ST.  IVES 

slept  in  a  different  part  of  the  castle;  and  I  was  thus 
assured  that  the  whole  of  my  former  companions  had 
attained  their  liberty,  and  Shed  B  was  untenanted. 

From  this  we  wandered  insensibly  into  other  topics. 
It  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  pleasure  1  took  to  be 
thus  sitting  at  the  same  table  with  Flora,  in  the  clothes 
of  a  gentleman,  at  liberty  and  in  the  full  possession  of 
my  spirits  and  resources;  of  all  of  which  1  had  need, 
because  it  was  necessary  that  1  should  support  at  the 
same  time  two  opposite  characters,  and  at  once  play  the 
cavalier  and  lively  soldier  for  the  eyes  of  Ronald,  and  to 
the  ears  of  Flora  maintain  the  same  profound  and  senti- 
mental note  that  1  had  already  sounded.  Certainly  there 
are  days  when  all  goes  well  with  a  man ;  when  his  wit, 
his  digestion,  his  mistress  are  in  a  conspiracy  to  spoil 
him,  and  even  the  weather  smiles  upon  his  wishes.  I 
will  only  say  of  myself  upon  that  evening  that  I  sur- 
passed my  expectations,  and  was  privileged  to  delight 
my  hosts.  Little  by  little  they  forgot  their  terrors  and 
I  my  caution ;  until  at  last  we  were  brought  back  to  earth 
by  a  catastrophe  that  might  very  easily  have  been  fore- 
seen, but  was  not  the  less  astonishing  to  us  when  it 
occurred. 

I  had  filled  all  the  glasses.  "  I  have  a  toast  to  propose, " 
1  whispered,  "  or  rather  three,  but  all  so  inextricably  in- 
terwoven that  they  will  not  bear  dividing.  1  wish  first 
to  drink  to  the  health  of  a  brave  and  therefore  a  gener- 
ous enemy.  He  found  me  disarmed,  a  fugitive  and 
helpless.  Like  the  lion,  he  disdained  so  poor  a  triumph ; 
and  when  he  might  have  vindicated  an  easy  valour,  he 
preferred  to  make  a  friend.  I  wish  that  we  should  next 
drink  to  a  fairer  and  a  more  tender  foe.     She  found  me 

90 


THREE   IS   COMPANY,  AND   FOUR  NONE 

in  prison;  she  cheered  me  with  a  priceless  sympathy; 
what  she  has  done  since,  I  know  she  has  done  in  mercy, 
and  I  only  pray—I  dare  scarce  hope— her  mercy  may 
prove  to  have  been  merciful.  And  I  wish  to  conjoin 
with  these,  for  the  first  and  perhaps  the  last  time,  the 
health— and  I  fear  I  may  already  say  the  memory— of 
one  who  has  fought,  not  always  without  success,  against 
the  soldiers  of  your  nation;  but  who  came  here,  van- 
quished already,  only  to  be  vanquished  again  by  the 
royal  hand  of  the  one,  by  the  unforgettable  eyes  of  the 
other." 

It  is  to  be  feared  I  may  have  lent  at  times  a  certain 
resonancy  to  my  voice;  it  is  to  be  feared  that  Ronald, 
who  was  none  the  better  for  his  own  hospitality,  may 
have  set  down  his  glass  with  something  of  a  clang. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  cause,  at  least,  I  had  scarce 
finished  my  compliment  before  we  were  aware  of  a 
thump  upon  the  ceiling  overhead.  It  was  to  be  thought 
some  very  solid  body  had  descended  to  the  floor  from 
the  level  (possibly)  of  a  bed.  I  have  never  seen  con- 
sternation painted  in  more  lively  colours  than  on  the 
faces  of  my  hosts.  It  was  proposed  to  smuggle  me 
forth  into  the  garden,  or  to  conceal  my  form  under  a 
horsehair  sofa  which  stood  against  the  wall.  For  the 
first  expedient,  as  was  now  plain  by  the  approaching 
footsteps,  there  was  no  longer  time;  from  the  second  I 
recoiled  with  indignation. 

"My  dear  creatures,"  said  I,  "let  us  die,  but  do  not 
let  us  be  ridiculous." 

The  words  were  still  upon  my  lips  when  the  door 
opened  and  my  friend  of  the  gold  eye-glass  appeared,  a 
memorable  figure,  on  the  threshold.     In  one  hand  she 


ST.  IVES 

bore  a  bedroom  candlestick;  in  the  other,  with  the 
steadiness  of  a  dragoon,  a  horse-pistol.  She  was  wound 
about  in  shawls  which  did  not  wholly  conceal  the  can- 
did fabric  of  her  night-dress,  and  surmounted  by  a  night- 
cap of  portentous  architecture.  Thus  accoutred,  she 
made  her  entrance;  laid  down  the  candle  and  pistol,  as 
no  longer  called  for;  looked  about  the  room  with  a  si- 
lence more  eloquent  than  oaths ;  and  then,  in  a  thrilling 
voice— "To  whom  have  I  the  pleasure?  "  she  said,  ad- 
dressing me  with  a  ghost  of  a  bow. 

"Madam,  I  am  charmed,  I  am  sure,"  said  I.  "The 
story  is  a  little  long;  and  our  meeting,  however  wel- 
come, was  for  the  moment  entirely  unexpected  by  my- 
self. I  am  sure—"  but  here  1  found  1  was  quite  sure  of 
nothing,  and  tried  again.  "  1  have  the  honour,"  1  began, 
and  found  1  had  the  honour  to  be  only  exceedingly 
confused.  With  that,  1  threw  myself  outright  upon  her 
mercy.  "Madam,  I  must  be  more  frank  with  you,"  1 
resumed.  "  You  have  already  proved  your  charity  and 
compassion  for  the  French  prisoners.  I  am  one  of 
these;  and  if  my  appearance  be  not  too  much  changed, 
you  m,ay  even  yet  recognise  in  me  that  Oddity  who  had 
the  good  fortune  more  than  once  to  make  you  smile." 

Still  gazing  upon  me  through  her  glass,  she  uttered  an 
uncompromising  grunt;  and  then,  turning  to  her  niece 
— "  Flora,"  said  she,  "  how  comes  he  here  ?  " 

The  culprits  poured  out  for  a  while  an  antiphony  of 
explanations,  which  died  out  at  last  in  a  miserable 
silence. 

"  I  think  at  least  you  might  have  told  your  aunt,"  she 
snorted. 

"Madam,"  I  interposed,  "they  were  about  to  do  so. 
92 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND   FOUR  NONE 

It  is  my  fault  if  it  be  not  done  already.  But  I  made  it 
my  prayer  that  your  slumbers  might  be  respected,  and 
this  necessary  formula  of  my  presentation  should  be 
delayed  until  to-morrow  in  the  morning." 

The  old  lady  regarded  me  with  undissembled  incredu- 
lity, to  which  1  was  able  to  find  no  better  repartee  than 
a  profound  and  I  trust  graceful  reverence. 

"French  prisoners  are  very  well  in  their  place,"  she 
said,  "  but  I  cannot  see  that  their  place  is  in  my  private 
dining-room." 

"Madam,"  said  I,  "I  hope  it  may  be  said  without 
offence,  but  (except  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh)  I  cannot 
think  upon  the  spot  from  which  I  would  so  readily  be 
absent." 

At  this,  to  my  relief,  I  thought  I  could  perceive  a  ves- 
tige of  a  smile  to  steal  upon  that  iron  countenance  and 
to  be  bitten  immediately  in. 

"  And  if  it  is  a  fair  question,  what  do  they  call  ye  ?  '* 
she  asked. 

"At  your  service,  the  Vicomte  Anne  de  Saint- Yves," 
said  I. 

"  Mosha  the  Viscount,"  said  she,  "  I  am  afraid  you  do 
us  plain  people  a  great  deal  too  much  honour." 

"  My  dear  lady,"  said  I,  "  let  us  be  serious  for  a  mo- 
ment. What  was  I  to  do  ?  Where  was  I  to  go  ?  And 
how  can  you  be  angry  with  these  benevolent  children, 
who  took  pity  on  one  so  unfortunate  as  myself  ?  Your 
humble  servant  is  no  such  terrific  adventurer  that  you 
should  come  out  against  him  with  horse-pistols  and"— 
smiling— "bedroom  candlesticks.  It  is  but  a  young 
gentleman  in  extreme  distress,  hunted  upon  every  side, 
and  asking  no  more  than  to  escape  from  his  pursuers. 

93 


ST.  IVES 

I  know  your  character,  I  read  it  in  your  face  "—the  heart 
trembled  in  my  body  as  I  said  these  daring  words. 
"  There  are  unhappy  English  prisoners  in  France  at  this 
day,  perhaps  at  this  hour.  Perhaps  at  this  hour  they 
kneel  as  I  do;  they  take  the  hand  of  her  who  might 
conceal  or  assist  them;  they  press  it  to  their  lips  as  I 
do-" 

"  Here,  here!  "  cried  the  old  lady,  breaking  from  my 
solicitations.  "  Behave  yourself  before  folk !  Saw  ever 
any  one  the  match  of  that  ?  And  on  earth,  my  dears, 
what  are  we  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  Pack  him  off,  my  dear  lady,"  said  I:  "  pack  off  the 
impudent  fellow  double-quick!  And  if  it  may  be,  and 
your  good  heart  allows  it,  help  him  a  little  on  the  way 
he  has  to  go." 

"  What's  this  pie  ?  "  she  cried  stridently.  "  Where  is 
this  pie  from,  Flora  ?  " 

No  answer  was  vouchsafed  by  my  unfortunate  and  (I 
may  say)  extinct  accomplices. 

"  Is  that  my  port  ?  "  she  pursued.  "  Hough !  Will 
somebody  give  me  a  glass  of  my  port-wine  ?  " 

I  made  haste  to  serve  her. 

She  looked  at  me  over  the  rim  with  an  extraordinary 
expression.     "  1  hope  ye  liked  it  ?  "  said  she. 

"  It  is  even  a  magnificent  wine,"  said  I. 

"Awell,  it  was  my  father  laid  it  down,"  she  said. 
"  There  were  few  knew  more  about  port  wine  than  my 
father,  God  rest  him !  "  She  settled  herself  in  a  chair 
with  an  alarming  air  of  resolution.  "  And  so  there  is 
some  particular  direction  that  you  wish  to  go  in  ?  "  said 
she. 

"O,"  said  I,  following  her  example,  "I  am  by  no 
9A 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND   FOUR  NONE 

means  such  a  vagrant  as  you  suppose.  I  have  good 
friends,  if  I  could  get  to  them,  for  which  all  I  want  is  to 
be  once  clear  of  Scotland;  and  I  have  money  for  the 
road."    And  I  produced  my  bundle. 

"  English  bank  notes  ?  "  she  said.  "  That's  not  very 
handy  for  Scotland.  It's  been  some  fool  of  an  English- 
man that's  given  you  these,  I'm  thinking.  How  much 
isit.^" 

"I  declare  to  heaven  I  never  thought  to  count!  "  I 
exclaimed.     **  But  that  is  soon  remedied." 

And  I  counted  out  ten  notes  of  ten  pound  each,  all  in 
the  name  of  Abraham  Newlands,  and  five  bills  of  coun- 
try bankers  for  as  many  guineas. 

"  One  hundred  and  twenty-six  pound  five,"  cried  the 
old  lady.  "  And  you  carry  such  a  sum  about  you,  and 
have  not  so  much  as  counted  it!  If  you  are  not  a  thief, 
you  must  allow  you  are  very  thief-like." 

"And  yet,  madam,  the  money  is  legitimately  mine," 
said  I. 

She  took  one  of  the  bills  and  held  it  up,  "  Is  there 
any  probability,  now,  that  this  could  be  traced  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  None,  I  should  suppose;  and  if  it  were,  it  would  be 
no  matter,"  said  I.  "  With  your  usual  penetration,  you 
guessed  right.  An  Englishman  brought  it  me.  It 
reached  me,  through  the  hands  of  his  English  solicitor, 
from  my  great-uncle,  the  Comte  de  Keroual  de  Saint- 
Yves,  I  believe  the  richest  tmigrt  in  London." 

"  I  can  do  no  more  than  take  your  word  for  it,"  said 
she. 

"And  I  trust,  madam,  not  less,"  said  I. 

"Well,"  said  she,  "at  this  rate  the  matter  may  be 

95 


ST.  IVES 

feasible.  I  will  cash  one  of  these  five-guinea  bills,  less 
the  exchange,  and  give  you  silver  and  Scots  notes  to 
bear  you  as  far  as  the  border.  Beyond  that,  Mosha  the 
Viscount,  you  will  have  to  depend  upon  yourself." 

I  could  not  but  express  a  civil  hesitation  as  to  whether 
the  amount  would  suffice,  in  my  case,  for  so  long  a 
journey. 

"Ay,"  said  she,  "but  you  havenae  heard  me  out 
For  if  you  are  not  too  fine  a  gentleman  to  travel  with  a 
pair  of  drovers,  1  believe  I  have  found  the  very  thing, 
and  the  Lord  forgive  me  for  a  treasonable  old  wife! 
There  are  a  couple  stopping  up-by  with  the  shepherd- 
man  at  the  farm ;  to-morrow  they  will  take  the  road  for 
England,  probably  by  skreigh  of  day— and  in  my  opin- 
ion you  had  best  be  travelling  with  the  stots,"  said  she. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  do  not  suppose  me  to  be  so 
effeminate  a  character!  "  I  cried.  "An  old  soldier  of 
Napoleon  is  certainly  beyond  suspicion.  But,  dear  lady, 
to  what  end  ?  and  how  is  the  society  of  these  excellent 
gentlemen  supposed  to  help  me  ?  " 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  she,  "  you  do  not  at  all  understand 
your  own  predicament,  and  must  just  leave  your  mat- 
ters in  the  hands  of  those  who  do.  I  dare  say  you  have 
never  even  heard  tell  of  the  drove-roads  or  the  drovers ; 
and  I  am  certainly  not  going  to  sit  up  all  night  to  explain 
it  to  you.  Suffice  it,  that  it  is  me  who  is  arranging  this 
affair— the  more  shame  to  me  I— and  that  is  the  way  ye 
have  to  go.  Ronald,"  she  continued,  "away  up-by  to 
the  shepherds;  rowstthem  out  of  their  beds,  and  make 
it  perfectly  distinct  that  Sim  is  not  to  leave  till  he  has 
seen  me.'' 

Ronald  was  nothing  loath  to  escape  from  his  aunt's 
96 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND  FOUR  NONE 

neighbourhood,  and  left  the  room  and  the  cottage  with 
a  silent  expedition  that  was  more  like  flight  than  mere 
obedience.     Meanwhile  the  old  lady  turned  to  her  niece. 

"  And  I  would  like  to  know  what  we  are  to  do  with 
him  the  night!  "  she  cried. 

"Ronald  and  I  meant  to  put  him  in  the  hen-house," 
said  the  encrimsoned  Flora. 

"  And  I  can  tell  you  he  is  to  go  to  no  such  a  place," 
replied  the  aunt.  "  Hen-house,  indeed!  If  a  guest  he 
is  to  be,  he  shall  sleep  in  no  mortal  hen-house.  Your 
room  is  the  most  fit,  1  think,  if  he  will  consent  to  occupy 
it  on  so  great  a  suddenty.  And  as  for  you.  Flora,  you 
shall  sleep  with  me." 

I  could  not  help  admiring  the  prudence  and  tact  of 
this  old  dowager,  and  of  course  it  was  not  for  me  to 
make  objections.  Ere  I  well  knew  how,  I  was  alone 
with  a  flat  candlestick,  which  is  not  the  most  sympa- 
thetic of  companions,  and  stood  studying  the  snufif  in  a 
frame  of  mind  between  triumph  and  chagrin.  All  had 
gone  well  with  my  flight:  the  masterful  lady  who  had 
arrogated  to  herself  the  arrangement  of  the  details  gave 
me  every  confidence;  and  I  saw  myself  already  arriving 
at  my  uncle's  door.  But,  alas!  it  was  another  story 
with  my  love-affair.  I  had  seen  and  spoken  with  her 
alone ;  I  had  ventured  boldly ;  I  had  been  not  ill  received ; 
I  had  seen  her  change  colour,  had  enjoyed  the  undis- 
sembled  kindness  of  her  eyes ;  and  now,  in  a  moment, 
down  comes  upon  the  scene  that  apocalyptic  figure  with 
the  nightcap  and  the  horse-pistol,  and  with  the  very 
wind  of  her  coming  behold  me  separated  from  my  love! 
Gratitude  and  admiration  contended  in  my  breast  with 
the  extreme  of  natural  rancour.     My  appearance  in  her 

97 


ST.  IVES 

house  at  past  midnight  had  an  air  (I  could  not  disguise 
it  from  myself)  that  was  insolent  and  underhand,  and 
could  not  but  minister  to  the  worst  suspicions.  And 
the  old  lady  had  taken  it  well.  Her  generosity  was  no 
more  to  be  called  in  question  than  her  courage,  and  I 
was  afraid  that  her  intelligence  would  be  found  to 
match.  Certainly,  Miss  Flora  had  to  support  some 
shrewd  looks,  and  certainly  she  had  been  troubled.  I 
could  see  but  the  one  way  before  me:  to  profit  by  an 
excellent  bed,  to  try  to  sleep  soon,  to  be  stirring  early, 
and  to  hope  for  some  renewed  occasion  in  the  morning. 
To  have  said  so  much  and  yet  to  say  no  more,  to  go  out 
into  the  world  upon  so  half-hearted  a  parting,  was  more 
than  I  could  accept. 

It  is  my  belief  that  the  benevolent  fiend  sat  up  all 
night  to  balk  me.  She  was  at  my  bedside  with  a  can- 
dle long  ere  day,  roused  me,  laid  out  for  me  a  damnable 
misfit  of  clothes,  and  bade  me  pack  my  own  (which 
were  wholly  unsuited  to  the  journey)  in  a  bundle.  Sore 
grudging,  I  arrayed  myself  in  a  suit  of  some  country 
fabric,  as  delicate  as  sackcloth  and  about  as  becoming 
as  a  shroud;  and,  on  coming  forth,  found  the  dragon 
had  prepared  for  me  a  hearty  breakfast.  She  took  the 
head  of  the  table,  poured  out  the  tea,  and  entertained 
me  as  I  ate  with  a  great  deal  of  good  sense  and  a  con- 
spicuous lack  of  charm.  How  often  did  1  not  regret  the 
change!— how  often  compare  her,  and  condemn  her  in 
the  comparison,  with  her  charming  niece!  But  if  my 
entertainer  was  not  beautiful,  she  had  certainly  been 
busy  in  my  interest.  Already  she  was  in  communica- 
tion with  my  destined  fellow-travellers ;  and  the  device 
on  which  she  had  struck  appeared  entirely  suitable.     1 

98 


THREE  IS   COMPANY,  AND   FOUR  NONE 

was  a  young  Englishman  who  had  outrun  the  constable; 
warrants  were  out  against  me  in  Scotland,  and  it  had 
become  needful  I  should  pass  the  border  without  loss 
of  time,  and  privately. 

"  I  have  given  a  very  good  account  of  you,"  said  she, 
"  which  1  hope  you  may  justify.  I  told  them  there  was 
nothing  against  you  beyond  the  fact  that  you  were  put 
to  the  haw  (if  that  is  the  right  word)  for  debt." 

"I  pray  God  you  have  the  expression  incorrectly, 
ma'am,"  said  I.  "  1  do  not  give  myself  out  for  a  person 
easily  alarmed ;  but  you  must  admit  there  is  something 
barbarous  and  mediaeval  in  the  sound  well  qualified  to 
startle  a  poor  foreigner." 

"  It  is  the  name  of  a  process  in  Scots  Law,  and  need 
alarm  no  honest  man,"  said  she.  "  But  you  are  a  very 
idle-minded  young  gentleman ;  you  must  still  have  your 
joke,  I  see:  I  only  hope  you  will  have  no  cause  to  re- 
gret it." 

"  I  pray  you  not  to  suppose,  because  1  speak  lightly, 
that  1  do  not  feel  deeply,"  said  I.  "  Your  kindness  has 
quite  conquered  me;  1  lay  myself  at  your  disposition,  I 
beg  you  to  believe,  with  real  tenderness ;  I  pray  you  to 
consider  me  from  henceforth  as  the  most  devoted  of 
your  friends." 

"Well,  well,"  she  said,  "here  comes  your  devoted 
friend  the  drover.  I'm  thinking  he  will  be  eager  for  the 
road ;  and  I  will  not  be  easy  myself  till  I  see  you  well 
off  the  premises,  and  the  dishes  washed,  before  my 
servant-woman  wakes.  Praise  God,  we  have  gotten 
one  that  is  a  treasure  at  the  sleeping!  " 

The  morning  was  already  beginning  to  be  blue  in  the 
trees  of  the  garden,  and  to  put  to  shame  the  candle  by 

99 


ST.  IVES 

which  I  had  breakfasted.  The  lady  rose  from  table, 
and  I  had  no  choice  but  to  follow  her  example.  All  the 
time  I  was  beating  my  brains  for  any  means  by  which 
I  should  be  able  to  get  a  word  apart  with  Flora,  or  find 
the  time  to  write  her  a  billet.  The  windows  had  been 
open  while  I  breakfasted,  I  suppose  to  ventilate  the  room 
from  any  traces  of  my  passage  there ;  and,  Master  Ron- 
ald appearing  on  the  front  lawn,  my  ogre  leaned  forth 
to  address  him. 

"Ronald,"  she  said,  "wasn't  that  Sim  that  went  by 
the  wall  ?  " 

I  snatched  my  advantage.  Right  at  her  back  there 
was  pen,  ink,  and  paper  laid  out.  I  wrote : "  I  love  you  " ; 
and  before  I  had  time  to  write  more,  or  so  much  as  to 
blot  what  I  had  written,  I  was  again  under  the  guns  of 
the  gold  eye-glasses. 

"  It's  time,"  she  began;  and  then,  as  she  observed  my 
occupation,  "  Umph  I  "  she  broke  off.  "  Ye  have  some- 
thing to  write  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"Some  notes,  madam,"  said  I,  bowing  with  alacrity. 

"  Notes, "  she  said ;  "  or  a  note  ?  " 

"There  is  doubtless  somt  finesse  of  the  English  lan- 
guage that  I  do  not  comprehend,"  said  I. 

"I'll  contrive,  however,  to  make  my  meaning  very 
plain  to  ye,  Mosha  le  Viscount,"  she  continued.  "I 
suppose  you  desire  to  be  considered  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Can  you  doubt  it,  madam  ?  "  said  I. 

"  I  doubt  very  much,  at  least,  whether  you  go  to  the 
right  way  about  it,"  she  said.  "You  have  come  here 
to  me,  I  cannot  very  well  say  how;  I  think  you  will 
admit  you  owe  me  some  thanks,  if  it  was  only  for  the 
breakfast  I  made  ye.     But  what  are  you  to  me?    A 


THREE  IS  COMPANY,  AND  FOUR  NONE 

waif  young  man,  not  so  far  to  seek  for  looks  and  man- 
ners, with  some  English  notes  in  your  pocket  and  a 
price  upon  your  head.  I  am  a  lady;  I  have  been  your 
hostess,  with  however  little  will ;  and  I  desire  that  this 
random  acquaintance  of  yours  with  my  family  will  cease 
and  determine." 

I  believe  I  must  have  coloured.  "Madam,"  said  I, 
"the  notes  are  of  no  importance;  and  your  least  plea- 
sure ought  certainly  to  be  my  law.  You  have  felt,  and 
you  have  been  pleased  to  express,  a  doubt  of  me.  I 
tear  them  up."  Which  you  may  be  sure  I  did  thor- 
oughly. 

"  There's  a  good  lad  I  "  said  the  dragon,  and  imme- 
diately led  the  way  to  the  front  lawn. 

The  brother  and  sister  were  both  waiting  us  here,  and, 
as  well  as  I  could  make  out  in  the  imperfect  light,  bore 
every  appearance  of  having  passed  through  a  rather 
cruel  experience.  Ronald  seemed  ashamed  to  so  much 
as  catch  my  eye  in  the  presence  of  his  aunt,  and  was  the 
picture  of  embarrassment.  As  for  Flora,  she  had  scarce 
the  time  to  cast  me  one  look  before  the  dragon  took  her 
by  the  arm,  and  began  to  march  across  the  garden  in  the 
extreme  first  glimmer  of  the  dawn  without  exchanging 
speech.     Ronald  and  1  followed  in  equal  silence. 

There  was  a  door  in  that  same  high  wall  on  the  top 
of  which  I  had  sat  perched  no  longer  gone  than  yester- 
day morning.  This  the  old  lady  set  open  with  a  key; 
and  on  the  other  side  we  were  aware  of  a  rough-look- 
ing, thick-set  man,  leaning  with  his  arms  (through 
which  was  passed  a  formidable  staff)  on  a  dry-stone 
dike.     Him  the  old  lady  immediately  addressed. 

"Sim,"  said  she,  "this  is  the  young  gentleman." 


ST.  IVES 

Sim  replied  with  an  inarticulate  grumble  of  sound,  and 
a  movement  of  one  arm  and  his  head,  which  did  duty 
for  a  salutation. 

"Now,  Mr.  St.  Ives,"  said  the  old  lady,  "it's  high 
time  for  you  to  be  taking  the  road.  But  first  of  all  let 
me  give  the  change  of  your  five-guinea  bill.  Here  are 
four  pounds  of  it  in  British  Linen  notes,  and  the  balance 
in  small  silver,  less  sixpence.  Some  charge  a  shilling, 
1  believe,  but  I  have  given  you  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 
See  and  guide  it  with  all  the  sense  that  you  possess." 

"And  here,  Mr.  St.  Ives,"  said  Flora,  speaking  for  the 
first  time,  "  is  a  plaid  which  you  will  find  quite  neces- 
sary on  so  rough  a  journey.  I  hope  you  will  take  it 
from  the  hands  of  a  Scotch  friend,"  she  added,  and  her 
voice  trembled. 

"Genuine  holly:  I  cut  it  myself,"  said  Ronald,  and 
gave  me  as  good  a  cudgel  as  a  man  could  wish  for  in  a 
row. 

The  formality  of  these  gifts,  and  the  waiting  figure  of 
the  drover,  told  me  loudly  that  I  must  be  gone.  I 
dropped  on  one  knee  and  bade  farewell  to  the  aunt, 
kissing  her  hand.  I  did  the  like— but  with  how  differ- 
ent a  passion!— to  her  niece;  as  for  the  boy,  I  took  him 
to  my  arms  and  embraced  him  with  a  cordiality  that 
seemed  to  strike  him  speechless.  "Farewell!"  and 
"Farewell!"  I  said.  "I  shall  never  forget  my  friends. 
Keep  me  sometimes  in  memory.  Farewell!  "  With 
that  I  turned  my  back  and  began  to  walk  away;  and 
had  scarce  done  so,  when  I  heard  the  door  in  the  high 
wall  close  behind  me.  Of  course  this  was  the  aunt's 
doing;  and  of  course,  if  I  know  anything  of  human 
character,  she  would  not  let  me  go  without  some  tart 

102 


THREE  IS   COMPANY,  AND  FOUR  NONE 

expressions.  I  declare,  even  if  I  had  heard  them,  I 
should  not  have  minded  in  the  least,  for  I  was  quite 
persuaded  that,  whatever  admirers  I  might  be  leaving 
behind  me  in  Swanston  Cottage,  the  aunt  was  not  the 
least  sincere. 


103 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   DROVERS 

It  took  me  a  little  effort  to  come  abreast  of  my  new 
companion;  for  though  he  walked  with  an  ugly  roll  and 
no  great  appearance  of  speed,  he  could  cover  the  ground 
at  a  good  rate  when  he  wanted  to.  Each  looked  at  the 
other:  I  with  natural  curiosity,  he  with  a  great  appear- 
ance of  distaste.  I  have  heard  since  that  his  heart  was 
entirely  set  against  me;  he  had  seen  me  kneel  to  the 
ladies,  and  diagnosed  me  for  a  "gesterin'  eediot." 

"  So,  ye're  for  England,  are  ye  ?  "  said  he. 

I  told  him  yes. 

"  Weel,  there's  waur  places,  I  believe,"  was  his  reply; 
and  he  relapsed  into  a  silence  which  was  not  broken 
during  a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  steady  walking. 

This  interval  brought  us  to  the  foot  of  a  bare  green 
valley,  which  wound  upward  and  backward  among 
the  hills.  A  little  stream  came  down  the  midst  and 
made  a  succession  of  clear  pools ;  near  by  the  lowest  of 
which  I  was  aware  of  a  drove  of  shaggy  cattle,  and  a 
man  who  seemed  the  very  counterpart  of  Mr.  Sim  mak- 
ing a  breakfast  upon  bread  and  cheese.  This  second 
drover  (whose  name  proved  to  be  Candlish)  rose  on  our 
approach. 

104 


THE   DROVERS 

"  Here's  a  mannie  that's  to  gang  through  with  us," 
said  Sim.     "  It  was  the  auld  wife,  Gilchrist,  wanted  it." 

"Aweel,  aweel,"  said  the  other;  and  presently,  re- 
membering his  manners,  and  looking  on  me  with  a 
solemn  grin,  "A  fine  day!  "  says  he. 

I  agreed  with  him,  and  asked  him  how  he  did. 

"  Brawly,"  was  the  reply;  and  without  further  civili- 
ties, the  pair  proceeded  to  get  the  cattle  under  way. 
This,  as  well  as  almost  all  the  herding,  was  the  work 
of  a  pair  of  comely  and  intelligent  dogs,  directed  by  Sim 
or  Candlish  in  little  more  than  monosyllables.  Presently 
we  were  ascending  the  side  of  the  mountain  by  a  rude 
green  track,  whose  presence  I  had  not  hitherto  observed. 
A  continual  sound  of  munching  and  the  crying  of  a  great 
quantity  of  moor-birds  accompanied  our  progress,  which 
the  deliberate  pace  and  perennial  appetite  of  the  cattle 
rendered  wearisomely  slow.  In  the  midst  my  two 
conductors  marched  in  a  contented  silence  that  I  could 
not  but  admire.  The  more  I  looked  at  them,  the  more 
I  was  impressed  by  their  absurd  resemblance  to  each 
other.  They  were  dressed  in  the  same  coarse  home- 
spun, carried  similar  sticks,  were  equally  begrimed  about 
the  nose  with  snuff,  and  each  wound  in  an  identical 
plaid  of  what  is  called  the  shepherd's  tartan.  In  a  back 
view  they  might  be  described  as  indistinguishable ;  and 
even  from  the  front  they  were  much  alike.  An  incred- 
ible coincidence  of  humours  augmented  the  impression. 
Thrice  and  four  times  I  attempted  to  pave  the  way  for 
some  exchange  of  thought,  sentiment,  or— at  the  least 
of  it— human  words.  An  Ay  or  an  Nhm  was  the  sole 
return,  and  the  topic  died  on  the  hillside  without  echo. 
I  can  never  deny  that  I  was  chagrined ;  and  when,  after 

105 


ST.  IVES 

a  little  more  walking,  Sim  turned  towards  me  and  offered 
me  a  ram's  horn  of  snuff,  with  the  question  "  Do  ye  use 
it  ?  "  I  answered,  with  some  animation,  "  Faith,  sir,  I 
would  use  pepper  to  introduce  a  little  cordiality."  But 
even  this  sally  failed  to  reach,  or  at  least  failed  to  soften, 
my  companions. 

At  this  rate  we  came  to  the  summit  of  a  ridge,  and 
saw  the  track  descend  in  front  of  us  abruptly  into  a 
desert  vale,  about  a  league  in  length,  and  closed  at  the 
farther  end  by  no  less  barren  hilltops.  Upon  this  point 
of  vantage  Sim  came  to  a  halt,  took  off  his  hat,  and 
mopped  his  brow. 

"  Weel,"  he  said,  "  here  we're  at  the  top  o'  Howden." 

"The  top  o'  Howden,  sure  eneuch,"  said  Candlish. 

"  Mr.  St.  Ivy,  are  ye  dry  ?  "  said  the  first. 

"Now,  really,"  said  I,  "is  not  this  Satan  reproving 
sin  ?  " 

"  What  ails  ye,  man  ?  "  said  he.  "  I'm  offerin'  ye  a 
dram." 

"  O,  if  it  be  anything  to  drink,"  said  I,  "  I  am  as  dry 
as  my  neighbours." 

Whereupon  Sim  produced  from  the  corner  of  his 
plaid  a  black  bottle,  and  we  all  drank  and  pledged  each 
other.  I  found  these  gentlemen  followed  upon  such 
occasions  an  invariable  etiquette,  which  you  may  be  cer- 
tain I  made  haste  to  imitate.  Each  wiped  his  mouth 
with  the  back  of  his  left  hand,  held  up  the  bottle  in  his 
right,  remarked  with  emphasis,  "Here's  to  ye!  "  and 
swallowed  as  much  of  the  spirit  as  his  fancy  prompted. 
This  little  ceremony,  which  was  the  nearest  thing  to 
manners  1  could  perceive  in  either  of  my  companions, 
was  repeated  at  becoming  intervals,  generally  after  an 

106 


THE   DROVERS 

ascent.  Occasionally  we  shared  a  mouthful  of  ewe- 
milk  cheese  and  an  inglorious  form  of  bread,  which  I 
understood  (but  am  far  from  engaging  my  honour  on 
the  point)  to  be  called  "shearer's  bannock."  And  that 
may  be  said  to  have  concluded  our  whole  active  inter- 
course for  the  first  day. 

I  had  the  more  occasion  to  remark  the  extraordinarily 
desolate  nature  of  that  country,  through  which  the  drove- 
road  continued,  hour  after  hour  and  even  day  after  day, 
to  wind.  A  continual  succession  of  insignificant  shaggy 
hills,  divided  by  the  course  of  ten  thousand  brooks, 
through  which  we  had  to  wade,  or  by  the  side  of  which 
we  encamped  at  night;  infinite  perspectives  of  heather, 
infinite  quantities  of  moor-fowl;  here  and  there,  by  a 
stream-side,  small  and  pretty  clumps  of  willows  or  the 
silver  birch ;  here  and  there,  the  ruins  of  ancient  and  in- 
considerable fortresses— made  the  unchanging  charac- 
ters of  the  scene.  Occasionally,  but  only  in  the  distance, 
we  could  perceive  the  smoke  of  a  small  town  or  of  an 
isolated  farm-house  or  cottage  on  the  moors ;  more  often, 
a  flock  of  sheep  and  its  attendant  shepherd,  or  a  rude 
field  of  agriculture  perhaps  not  yet  harvested.  With 
these  alleviations,  we  might  almost  be  said  to  pass 
through  an  unbroken  desert— sure,  one  of  the  most  im- 
poverished in  Europe;  and  when  I  recalled  to  mind  that 
we  were  yet  but  a  few  leagues  from  the  chief  city 
(where  the  law  courts  sat  every  day  with  a  press  of 
business,  soldiers  garrisoned  the  castle,  and  men  of 
admitted  parts  were  carrying  on  the  practice  of  letters 
and  the  investigations  of  science),  it  gave  me  a  singular 
view  of  that  poor,  barren,  and  yet  illustrious  country 
through  which  I  travelled.    Still  more,  perhaps,  did  it 

107 


ST.  IVES 

commend  the  wisdom  of  Miss  Gilchrist  in  sending  me 
with  these  uncouth  companions  and  by  this  unfrequented 
path. 

My  itinerary  is  by  no  means  clear  to  me;  the  names 
and  distances  I  never  clearly  knew,  and  have  now 
wholly  forgotten ;  and  this  is  the  more  to  be  regretted 
as  there  is  no  doubt  that,  in  the  course  of  those  days,  I 
must  have  passed  and  camped  among  sites  which  have 
been  rendered  illustrious  by  the  pen  of  Walter  Scott. 
Nay,  more,  I  am  of  opinion  that  I  was  still  more  fa- 
voured by  fortune,  and  have  actually  met  and  spoken 
with  that  inimitable  author.  Our  encounter  was  of  a 
tall,  stoutish,  elderly  gentleman,  a  little  grizzled,  and  of 
a  rugged  but  cheerful  and  engaging  countenance.  He 
sat  on  a  hill  pony,  wrapped  in  a  plaid  over  his  green 
coat,  and  was  accompanied  by  a  horsewoman,  his 
daughter,  a  young  lady  of  the  most  charming  appear- 
ance. They  overtook  us  on  a  stretch  of  heath,  reined 
up  as  they  came  alongside,  and  accompanied  us  for 
perhaps  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  they  galloped  off 
again  across  the  hillsides  to  our  left.  Great  was  my 
amazement  to  find  the  unconquerable  Mr.  Sim  thaw 
immediately  on  the  accost  of  this  strange  gentleman, 
who  hailed  him  with  a  ready  familiarity,  proceeded  at 
once  to  discuss  with  him  the  trade  of  droving  and  the 
prices  of  cattle,  and  did  not  disdain  to  take  a  pinch  from 
the  inevitable  ram's  horn.  Presently  I  was  aware  that 
the  stranger's  eye  was  directed  on  myself;  and  there 
ensued  a  conversation,  some  of  which  I  could  not 
help  overhearing  at  the  time,  and  the  rest  have  pieced 
together  more  or  less  plausibly  from  the  report  of 
Sim. 

108 


THE  DROVERS 

"  Surely  that  must  be  an  amateur  drover  ye  have 
gotten  there  ?  "  the  gentleman  seems  to  have  asked. 

Sim  replied,  I  was  a  young  gentleman  that  had  a  rea- 
son of  his  own  to  travel  privately. 

"  Well,  well,  ye  must  tell  me  nothing  of  that.  I  am 
in  law,  you  know,  and  tace  is  the  Latin  for  a  candle," 
answered  the  gentleman.    "  But  I  hope  it's  nothing  bad. " 

Sim  told  him  it  was  no  more  than  debt. 

"O  Lord,  if  that  be  all!  "  cried  the  gentleman;  and, 
turning  to  myself,  "  Well,  sir,"  he  added,  "  I  understand 
you  are  taking  a  tramp  through  our  forest  here  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  thing  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  sir,"  said  I;  "and  I  must  say  I  am  very 
well  entertained." 

"  I  envy  you,"  said  he.  '*  I  have  jogged  many  miles 
of  it  myself  when  I  was  younger.  My  youth  lies  buried 
about  here  under  every  heather-bush,  like  the  soul  of 
the  licentiate  Lucius.  But  you  should  have  a  guide. 
The  pleasure  of  this  country  is  much  in  the  legends, 
which  grow  as  plentiful  as  blackberries."  And  direct- 
ing my  attention  to  a  little  fragment  of  a  broken  wall  no 
greater  than  a  tombstone,  he  told  me,  for  an  example, 
a  story  of  its  earlier  inhabitants.  Years  after  it  chanced 
that  I  was  one  day  diverting  myself  with  a  Waverley 
Novel,  when  what  should  I  come  upon  but  the  identical 
narrative  of  my  green-coated  gentleman  upon  the  moors ! 
In  a  moment  the  scene,  the  tones  of  his  voice,  his  north- 
ern accent,  and  the  very  aspect  of  the  earth  and  sky  and 
temperature  of  the  weather,  flashed  back  into  my  mind 
with  the  reality  of  dreams.  The  unknown  in  the  green 
coat  had  been  the  Great  Unknown!  I  had  met  Scott; 
I  had  heard  a  story  from  his  lips;  I  should  have  been 

109 


ST.  IVES 

able  to  write,  to  claim  acquaintance,  to  tell  him  that  his 
legend  still  tingled  in  my  ears.  But  the  discovery  came 
too  late,  and  the  great  man  had  already  succumbed  under 
the  load  of  his  honours  and  misfortunes. 

Presently,  after  giving  us  a  cigar  apiece,  Scott  bade  us 
farewell  and  disappeared  with  his  daughter  over  the 
hills.  And  when  1  applied  to  Sim  for  information,  his 
answer  of  "  The  Shirra,  man !  A'body  kens  the  Shirra !  " 
told  me,  unfortunately,  nothing. 

A  more  considerable  adventure  falls  to  be  related. 
We  were  now  near  the  border.  We  had  travelled  for 
long  upon  the  track  beaten  and  browsed  by  a  million 
herds,  our  predecessors,  and  had  seen  no  vestige  of  that 
traffic  which  had  created  it.  It  was  early  in  the  morning 
when  we  at  last  perceived,  drawing  near  to  the  drove- 
road,  but  still  at  the  distance  of  about  half  a  league,  a 
second  caravan,  similar  to  but  larger  than  our  own. 
The  liveliest  excitement  was  at  once  exhibited  by  both 
my  comrades.  They  climbed  hillocks,  they  studied  the 
approaching  drove  from  under  their  hand,  they  consulted 
each  other  with  an  appearance  of  alarm  that  seemed  to 
me  extraordinary.  1  had  learned  by  this  time  that  their 
stand-off  manners  implied,  at  least,  no  active  enmity; 
and  1  made  bold  to  ask  them  what  was  wrong. 

"Bad  yins,"  was  Sim's  emphatic  answer. 

All  day  the  dogs  were  kept  unsparingly  on  the  alert, 
and  the  drove  pushed  forward  at  a  very  unusual  and 
seemingly  unwelcome  speed.  All  day  Sim  and  Candlish, 
with  a  more  than  ordinary  expenditure  both  of  snuff  and 
of  words,  continued  to  debate  the  position.  It  seems 
that  they  had  recognised  two  of  our  neighbours  on  the 
road— one  Faa,  and  another  by  the  name  of  Gillies. 

no 


THE  DROVERS 

Whether  there  was  an  old  feud  between  them  still  un- 
settled I  could  never  learn ;  but  Sim  and  Candlish  were 
prepared  for  every  degree  of  fraud  or  violence  at  their 
hands.  Candlish  repeatedly  congratulated  himself  on 
having  left  "  the  watch  at  home  with  the  mistress  " ; 
and  Sim  perpetually  brandished  his  cudgel,  and  cursed 
his  ill-fortune  that  it  should  be  sprung. 

"  I  wilna  care  a  damn  to  gie  the  daashed  scoon'rel  a 
fair  clout  wi'  it,"  he  said.  "The  daashed  thing  micht 
come  sindry  in  ma  hand.'* 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  I,  "suppose  they  do  come 
on,  I  think  we  can  give  a  very  good  account  of  them." 
And  1  made  my  piece  of  holly,  Ronald's  gift,  the  value 
of  which  I  now  appreciated,  sing  about  my  head. 

"  Ay,  man  ?  Are  ye  stench  ?  "  inquired  Sim,  with  a 
gleam  of  approval  in  his  wooden  countenance. 

The  same  evening,  somewhat  wearied  with  our  day- 
long expedition,  we  encamped  on  a  little  verdant  mound, 
from  the  midst  of  which  there  welled  a  spring  of  clear 
water  scarce  great  enough  to  wash  the  hands  in.  We 
had  made  our  meal  and  lain  down,  but  were  not  yet 
asleep,  when  a  growl  from  one  of  the  collies  set  us  on 
the  alert.  All  three  sat  up,  and  on  a  second  impulse  all 
lay  down  again,  but  now  with  our  cudgels  ready.  A 
man  must  be  an  alien  and  an  outlaw,  an  old  soldier  and 
a  young  man  in  the  bargain,  to  take  adventure  easily. 
With  no  idea  as  to  the  rights  of  the  quarrel  or  the  prob- 
able consequences  of  the  encounter,  1  was  as  ready  to 
take  part  with  my  two  drovers  as  ever  to  fall  in  line  on 
the  morning  of  a  battle.  Presently  there  leaped  three 
men  out  of  the  heather;  we  had  scarce  time  to  get  to 
our  feet  before  we  were  assailed;  and  in  a  moment  each 

III 


ST.  IVES 

one  of  us  was  engaged  with  an  adversary  whom  the 
deepening  twilight  scarce  permitted  him  to  see.  How 
the  battle  sped  in  other  quarters  I  am  in  no  position  to 
describe.  The  rogue  that  fell  to  my  share  was  exceed- 
ingly agile  and  expert  with  his  weapon ;  had  and  held 
me  at  a  disadvantage  from  the  first  assault;  forced  me 
to  give  ground  continually,  and  at  last,  in  mere  self- 
defence,  to  let  him  have  the  point.  It  struck  him  in  the 
throat,  and  he  went  down  like  a  ninepin  and  moved  no 
more. 

It  seemed  this  was  the  signal  for  the  engagement  to 
be  discontinued.  The  other  combatants  separated  at 
once;  our  foes  were  suffered,  without  molestation,  to 
lift  up  and  bear  away  their  fallen  comrade;  so  that  I 
perceived  this  sort  of  war  to  be  not  wholly  without  laws 
of  chivalry,  and  perhaps  rather  to  partake  of  the  charac- 
ter of  a  tournament  than  of  a  battle  d  outrance.  There 
was  no  doubt,  at  least,  that  I  was  supposed  to  have 
pushed  the  affair  too  seriously.  Our  friends  the  enemy 
removed  their  wounded  companion  with  undisguised 
consternation ;  and  they  were  no  sooner  over  the  top  of 
the  brae  than  Sim  and  Candlish  roused  up  their  wearied 
drove  and  set  forth  on  a  night  march. 

"  I'm  thinking  Faa's  unco  bad,"  said  the  one. 

"  Ay,"  said  the  other,  "  he  lookit  dooms  gash.** 

"  He  did  that,"  said  the  first. 

And  their  weary  silence  fell  upon  them  again. 

Presently  Sim  turned  to  me.  "  Ye're  unco  ready  with 
the  stick,"  said  he. 

"  Too  ready,  I'm  afraid,"  said  I.  "  I  am  afraid  Mr.  Faa 
(if  that  be  his  name)  has  got  his  gruel." 

"  Weel,  I  wouldnae  wonder,"  replied  Sim. 

I  12 


THE   DROVERS 

"  And  what  is  likely  to  happen  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"Aweel,"  said  Sim,  snuffing  profoundly,  "if  I  were 
to  offer  an  opeenion,  it  would  not  be  conscientious. 
For  the  plain  fac'  is,  Mr.  St.  Ivy,  that  I  div  not  ken. 
We  have  had  crackit  heids— and  rowth  of  them— ere 
now;  and  we  have  had  a  broken  leg  or  maybe  twa;  and 
the  like  of  that  we  drover  bodies  make  a  kind  of  a  prac- 
tice like  to  keep  among  oursel's.  But  a  corp'  we  have 
none  of  us  ever  had  to  deal  with,  and  I  could  set  nae 
leemit  to  what  Gillies  micht  consider  proper  in  the  affair. 
Forbye  that,  he  would  be  in  raither  a  hobble  himsel',  if 
he  was  to  gang  hame  wantin'  Faa.  Folk  are  awfu' 
throng  with  their  questions,  and  parteecularly  when 
they're  no  wantit.** 

"That's  a  fac',"  said  Candlish. 

I  considered  this  prospect  ruefully ;  and  then,  making 
the  best  of  it,  "  Upon  all  which  accounts,"  said  I,  "the 
best  will  be  to  get  across  the  border  and  there  separate. 
If  you  are  troubled,  you  can  very  truly  put  the  blame 
upon  your  late  companion;  and  if  I  am  pursued,  I  must 
just  try  to  keep  out  of  the  way." 

"Mr.  St.  Ivy,"  said  Sim,  with  something  resembling 
enthusiasm,  "  no  a  word  mair!  I  have  met  in  wi*  mony 
kinds  o'  gentry  ere  now ;  I  hae  seen  o'  them  that  was 
the  tae  thing,  and  I  hae  seen  o'  them  that  was  the  tither; 
but  the  wale  of  a  gentleman  like  you  I  have  no  sae  very 
frequently  seen  the  bate  of." 

Our  night  march  was  accordingly  pursued  with  unre- 
mitting diligence.  The  stars  paled,  the  east  whitened, 
and  we  were  still,  both  dogs  and  men,  toiling  after  the 
wearied  cattle.  Again  and  again  Sim  and  Candlish 
lamented  the  necessity:  it  was  "  fair  ruin  on  the  bestial," 

"J 


ST.  IVES 

they  declared ;  but  the  thought  of  a  judge  and  a  scaffold 
hunted  them  ever  forward.  I  myself  was  not  so  much 
to  be  pitied.  All  that  night,  and  during  the  whole  of 
the  little  that  remained  before  us  of  our  conjunct  jour- 
ney, I  enjoyed  a  new  pleasure,  the  reward  of  my  prow- 
ess, in  the  now  loosened  tongue  of  Mr.  Sim.  Candlish 
was  still  obdurately  taciturn :  it  was  the  man's  nature ; 
but  Sim,  having  finally  appraised  and  approved  me,  dis- 
played without  reticence  a  rather  garrulous  habit  of  mind 
and  a  pretty  talent  for  narration.  The  pair  were  old  and 
close  companions,  coexisting  in  these  endless  moors  in 
a  brotherhood  of  silence  such  as  I  have  heard  attributed 
to  the  trappers  of  the  west.  It  seems  absurd  to  men- 
tion love  in  connection  with  so  ugly  and  snuffy  a  couple ; 
at  least,  their  trust  was  absolute;  and  they  entertained 
a  surprising  admiration  for  each  other's  qualities ;  Cand- 
lish exclaiming  that  Sim  was  "grand  company!  "  and 
Sim  frequently  assuring  me  in  an  aside  that  for  "  a  rale, 
auld,  stench  bitch,  there  was  nae  the  bate  of  Can'lish  in 
braid  Scotland."  The  two  dogs  appeared  to  be  entirely 
included  in  this  family  compact,  and  I  remarked  that 
their  exploits  and  traits  of  character  were  constantly 
and  minutely  observed  by  the  two  masters.  Dog  stories 
particularly  abounded  with  them ;  and  not  only  the  dogs 
of  the  present  but  those  of  the  past  contributed  their 
quota.  "But  that  was  naething,"  Sim  would  begin: 
"  there  was  a  herd  in  Manar,  they  ca'd  him  Tweedie— 
ye'U  mind  Tweedie,  Can'lish?"  "Fine,  that!"  said 
Candlish.  "  Aweel,  Tweedie  had  a  dog—"  The  story 
I  have  forgotten ;  I  dare  say  it  was  dull,  and  1  suspect  it 
was  not  true;  but  indeed,  my  travels  with  the  drovers 
had  rendered  me  indulgent,  and  perhaps  even  credulous, 

114 


THE   DROVERS 

in  the  matter  of  dog  stories.  Beautiful,  indefatigable 
beings!  as  I  saw  them  at  the  end  of  a  long  day's  jour- 
ney frisking,  barking,  bounding,  striking  attitudes, 
slanting  a  bushy  tail,  manifestly  playing  to  the  specta- 
tor's eye,  manifestly  rejoicing  in  their  grace  and  beauty 
—and  turned  to  observe  Sim  and  Candlish  unornamen- 
tally  plodding  in  the  rear  with  the  plaids  about  their 
bowed  shoulders  and  the  drop  at  their  snuffy  nose— I 
thought  I  would  rather  claim  kinship  with  the  dogs  than 
with  the  men !  My  sympathy  was  unreturned ;  in  their 
eyes  I  was  a  creature  light  as  air;  and  they  would  scarce 
spare  me  the  time  for  a  perfunctory  caress  or  perhaps  a 
hasty  lap  of  the  wet  tongue,  ere  they  were  back  again 
in  sedulous  attendance  on  those  dingy  deities,  their  mas- 
ters—and their  masters,  as  like  as  not,  damning  their 
stupidity. 

Altogether  the  last  hours  of  our  tramp  were  infinitely 
the  most  agreeable  to  me,  and  I  believe  to  all  of  us; 
and  by  the  time  we  came  to  separate,  there  had  grown 
up  a  certain  familiarity  and  mutual  esteem  that  made  the 
parting  harder.  It  took  place  about  four  of  the  after- 
noon on  a  bare  hillside  from  which  I  could  see  the  ribbon 
of  the  great  north  road,  henceforth  to  be  my  conductor. 
I  asked  what  was  to  pay. 

"Naething,"  replied  Sim. 

"  What  in  the  name  of  folly  is  this  ?  "  I  exclaimed. 
"  You  have  led  me,  you  have  fed  me,  you  have  filled  me 
full  of  whiskey,  and  now  you  will  take  nothing!  " 

"Ye  see  we  indentit  for  that,"  replied  Sim. 

"  Indented  ?  "  I  repeated ;  "  what  does  the  man  mean  ?  " 

"Mr.  St.  Ivy,"  said  Sim,  "this  is  a  maitter  entirely 
between  Can'lish  and  me  and  the  auld  wife,  Gilchrist. 

"5 


ST.  IVES 

You  had  naething  to  say  to  it;  weel,  ye  can  have  nae- 
thing  to  do  with  it,  then." 

"My  good  man,"  said  I,  "I  can  allow  myself  to  be 
placed  in  no  such  ridiculous  position.  Mrs.  Gilchrist  is 
nothing  to  me,  and  I  refuse  to  be  her  debtor." 

"  1  dinna  exac'ly  see  what  way  ye're  gaun  to  help  it," 
observed  my  drover. 

"  By  paying  you  here  and  now,"  said  I. 

"  There's  aye  twa  to  a  bargain,  Mr.  St.  Ivy,"  said  he. 

"  You  mean  that  you  will  not  take  it  ?  "  said  I. 

"There  or  thereabout,"  said  he.  "  Forbye,  that  it 
would  set  ye  a  heap  better  to  keep  your  siller  for  them 
you  awe  it  to.  Ye're  young,  Mr.  St.  Ivy,  and  thought- 
less; but  it's  my  belief  that,  wi'  care  and  circumspection, 
ye  may  yet  do  credit  to  yoursel'.  But  just  you  bear  this 
in  mind:  that  him  that  ^u'^5 siller  should  never gie  siller." 

Well,  what  was  there  to  say  ?  I  accepted  his  rebuke, 
and  bidding  the  pair  farewell,  set  off  alone  upon  my 
southward  way. 

"Mr.  St.  Ivy,"  was  the  last  word  of  Sim,  "I  was 
never  muckle  ta'en  up  in  Englishry;  but  I  think  that  I 
really  ought  to  say  that  ye  seem  to  me  to  have  the  mak- 
ings of  quite  a  dacent  lad." 


n6 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  GREAT   NORTH   ROAD 

It  chanced  that  as  I  went  down  the  hill  these  last 
words  of  my  friend  the  drover  echoed  not  unfruitfully 
in  my  head.  I  had  never  told  these  men  the  least  par- 
ticulars as  to  my  race  or  fortune,  as  it  was  a  part,  and 
the  best  part,  of  their  civility  to  ask  no  questions :  yet 
they  had  dubbed  me  without  hesitation  English.  Some 
strangeness  in  the  accent  they  had  doubtless  thus  ex- 
plained. And  it  occurred  to  me,  that  if  I  could  pass  in 
Scotland  for  an  Englishman,  I  might  be  able  to  reverse 
the  process  and  pass  in  England  for  a  Scot.  I  thought, 
if  I  was  pushed  to  it,  I  could  make  a  struggle  to  imitate 
the  brogue;  after  my  experience  with  Candlish  and  Sim, 
I  had  a  rich  provision  of  outlandish  words  at  my  com- 
mand ;  and  I  felt  I  could  tell  the  tale  of  Tweedie's  dog 
so  as  to  deceive  a  native.  At  the  same  time,  I  was  afraid 
my  name  of  St.  Ives  was  scarcely  suitable;  till  I  remem- 
bered there  was  a  town  so  called  in  the  province  of 
Cornwall,  thought  I  might  yet  be  glad  to  claim  it  for  my 
place  of  origin,  and  decided  for  a  Cornish  family  and  a 
Scots  education.  For  a  trade,  as  I  was  equally  ignorant 
of  all,  and  as  the  most  innocent  might  at  any  moment 
be  the  means  of  my  exposure,  it  was  best  to  pretend  to 

117 


ST.  IVES 

none.  And  I  dubbed  myself  a  young  gentleman  of  a 
sufficient  fortune  and  an  idle,  curious  habit  of  mind, 
rambling  the  country  at  my  own  charges,  in  quest  of 
health,  information,  and  merry  adventures. 

At  Newcastle,  which  was  the  first  town  I  reached,  I 
completed  my  preparations  for  the  part,  before  going  to 
the  inn,  by  the  purchase  of  a  knapsack  and  a  pair  of 
leathern  gaiters.  My  plaid  I  continued  to  wear  from 
sentiment.  It  was  warm,  useful  to  sleep  in  if  I  were 
again  benighted,  and  I  had  discovered  it  to  be  not  un- 
becoming for  a  man  of  gallant  carriage.  Thus  equipped, 
I  supported  my  character  of  the  light-hearted  pedestrian 
not  amiss.  Surprise  was  indeed  expressed  that  I  should 
have  selected  such  a  season  of  the  year;  but  I  pleaded 
some  delays  of  business,  and  smilingly  claimed  to  be  an 
eccentric.  The  devil  was  in  it,  I  would  say,  if  any  sea- 
son of  the  year  was  not  good  enough  for  me;  I  was  not 
made  of  sugar,  I  was  no  molly-coddle  to  be  afraid  of  an 
ill-aired  bed  or  a  sprinkle  of  snow;  and  I  would  knock 
upon  the  table  with  my  fist  and  call  for  t'other  bottle, 
like  the  noisy  and  free-hearted  young  gentleman  I  was. 
It  was  my  policy  (if  I  may  so  express  myself)  to  talk 
much  and  say  little.  At  the  inn  tables,  the  country,  the 
state  of  the  roads,  the  business  interest  of  those  who  sat 
down  with  me,  and  the  course  of  public  events,  afforded 
me  a  considerable  field  in  which  I  might  discourse  at 
large  and  still  communicate  no  information  about  myself. 
There  was  no  one  with  less  air  of  reticence;  I  plunged 
into  my  company  up  to  the  neck;  and  I  had  a  long  cock- 
and-bull  story  of  an  aunt  of  mine  which  must  have  con- 
vinced the  most  suspicious  of  my  innocence.  "  What !  " 
they  would  have  said,  "  that  young  ass  to  be  conceal- 

118 


THE  GREAT  NORTH  ROAD 

ing  anything!  Why,  he  has  deafened  me  with  an 
aunt  of  his  until  my  head  aches.  He  only  wants  you 
should  give  him  a  line,  and  he  would  tell  you  his 
whole  descent  from  Adam  downward,  and  his  whole 
private  fortune  to  the  last  shilling."  A  responsible 
solid  fellow  was  even  so  much  moved  by  pity  for 
my  inexperience  as  to  give  me  a  word  or  two  of 
good  advice:  that  I  was  but  a  young  man  after  all— 
I  had  at  this  time  a  deceptive  air  of  youth  that  made  me 
easily  pass  for  one-and-twenty,  and  was,  in  the  circum- 
stances, worth  a  fortune— that  the  company  at  inns  was 
very  mingled,  that  I  should  do  well  to  be  more  careful, 
and  the  like;  to  all  which  I  made  answer  that  I  meant 
no  harm  myself  and  expected  none  from  others,  or  the 
devil  was  in  it.  "  You  are  one  of  those  d— d  prudent 
fellows  that  I  could  never  abide  with,"  said  I.  "You 
are  the  kind  of  man  that  has  a  long  head.  That's  all  the 
world,  my  dear  sir:  the  long-heads  and  the  short-horns! 
Now,  I  am  a  short-horn."  "I  doubt,"  says  he,  "that 
you  will  not  go  very  far  without  getting  sheared."  I 
offered  to  bet  with  him  on  that,  and  he  made  off,  shak- 
ing his  head. 

But  my  particular  delight  was  to  enlarge  on  politics 
and  the  war.  None  damned  the  French  like  me;  none 
was  more  bitter  against  the  Americans.  And  when  the 
north-bound  mail  arrived,  crowned  with  holly,  and  the 
coachman  and  guard  hoarse  with  shouting  victory,  I 
went  even  so  far  as  to  entertain  the  company  to  a  bowl 
of  punch,  which  I  compounded  myself  with  no  illiberal 
hand,  and  doled  out  to  such  sentiments  as  the  follow- 
ing :- 

"  Our  glorious  victory  on  the  Nivelle  ! "  "  Lord 
119 


ST.  IVES 

Wellington,  God  bless  him!  and  may  victory  ever  at- 
tend upon  his  arms!  "  and,  "  Soult,  poor  devil!  and  may 
he  catch  it  again  to  the  same  tune!  " 

Never  was  oratory  more  applauded  to  the  echo— never 
any  one  was  more  of  the  popular  man  than  I.  I  prom- 
ise you,  we  made  a  night  of  it.  Some  of  the  company 
supported  each  other,  with  the  assistance  of  boots,  to 
their  respective  bed-chambers,  while  the  rest  slept  on 
the  field  of  glory  where  we  had  left  them ;  and  at  the 
breakfast-table  the  next  morning  there  was  an  extraor- 
dinary assemblage  of  red  eyes  and  shaking  fists.  I  ob- 
served patriotism  to  burn  much  lower  by  daylight.  Let 
no  one  blame  me  for  insensibility  to  the  reverses  of 
France!  God  knows  how  my  heart  raged.  How  I 
longed  to  fall  on  that  herd  of  swine  and  knock  their 
heads  together  in  the  moment  of  their  revelry  I  But  you 
are  to  consider  my  own  situation  and  its  necessities; 
also  a  certain  light-heartedness,  eminently  Gallic,  which 
forms  a  leading  trait  in  my  character,  and  leads  me  to 
throw  myself  into  new  circumstances  with  the  spirit  of 
a  schoolboy.  It  is  possible  that  I  sometimes  allowed 
this  impish  humour  to  carry  me  further  than  good  taste 
approves ;  and  I  was  certainly  punished  for  it  once. 

This  was  in  the  episcopal  city  of  Durham.  We  sat 
down,  a  considerable  company,  to  dinner,  most  of  us 
fine  old  vatted  English  Tories  of  that  class  which  is  often 
so  enthusiastic  as  to  be  inarticulate.  I  took  and  held  the 
lead  from  the  beginning;  and,  the  talk  having  turned  on 
the  French  in  the  Peninsula,  I  gave  them  authentic  de- 
tails (on  the  authority  of  a  cousin  of  mine,  an  ensign) 
of  certain  cannibal  orgies  in  Galicia,  in  which  no  less  a 
person  than  General  Caffarelli  had  taken  a  part.    I  always 


THE  GREAT  NORTH   ROAD 

disliked  that  commander,  who  once  ordered  me  under 
arrest  for  insubordination ;  and  it  is  possible  that  a  spice 
of  vengeance  added  to  the  rigour  of  my  picture.  I  have 
forgotten  the  details;  no  doubt  they  were ^ high-col- 
oured. No  doubt  I  rejoiced  to  fool  these  jolter-heads; 
and  no  doubt  the  sense  of  security  that  I  drank  from 
their  dull,  gasping  faces  encouraged  me  to  proceed  ex- 
tremely far.  And  for  my  sins,  there  was  one  silent  lit- 
tle man  at  table  who  took  my  story  at  the  true  value. 
It  was  from  no  sense  of  humour,  to  which  he  was  quite 
dead.  It  was  from  no  particular  intelligence,  for  he  had 
not  any.  The  bond  of  sympathy,  of  all  things  in  the 
world,  had  rendered  him  clairvoyant. 

Dinner  was  no  sooner  done  than  I  strolled  forth  into 
the  streets  with  some  design  of  viewing  the  cathedral; 
and  the  little  man  was  silently  at  my  heels.  A  few 
doors  from  the  inn,  in  a  dark  place  of  the  street,  I  was 
aware  of  a  touch  on  my  arm,  turned  suddenly,  and 
found  him  looking  up  at  me  with  eyes  pathetically 
bright. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir;  but  that  story  of  yours  was 
particularly  rich.  He— he!  Particularly  racy,"  said  he. 
**  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  took  you  wholly !  I  smoked  you !  I 
believe  you  and  I,  sir,  if  we  had  a  chance  to  talk,  would 
find  we  had  a  good  many  opinions  in  common.  Here 
is  the  *  Blue  Bell,'  a  very  comfortable  place.  They  draw 
good  ale,  sir.  Would  you  be  so  condescending  as  to 
share  a  pot  with  me?  " 

There  was  something  so  ambiguous  and  secret  in  the 
little  man's  perpetual  signalling,  that  I  confess  my  curi- 
osity was  much  aroused.  Blaming  myself,  even  as  I 
did  so,  for  the  indiscretion,  I  embraced  his  proposal,  and 


ST.  IVES 

we  were  soon  face  to  face  over  a  tankard  of  mulled  ale. 
He  lowered  his  voice  to  the  least  attenuation  of  a 
whisper. 

"  Here,  sir,"  said  he,  "is  to  the  Great  Man.  I  think 
you  take  me  ?  No  ?  "  He  leaned  forward  till  our  noses 
almost  touched.     "  Here  is  to  the  Emperor!  "  said  he. 

I  was  extremely  embarrassed,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
creature's  innocent  appearance,  more  than  half  alarmed. 
I  thought  him  too  ingenuous,  and,  indeed,  too  daring 
for  a  spy.  Yet  if  he  were  honest  he  must  be  a  man  of 
extraordinary  indiscretion,  and  therefore  very  unfit  to  be 
encouraged  by  an  escaped  prisoner.  1  took  a  half-course, 
accordingly— accepted  his  toast  in  silence,  and  drank  it 
without  enthusiasm. 

He  proceeded  to  abound  in  the  praises  of  Napoleon, 
such  as  I  had  never  heard  in  France,  or  at  least  only  on 
the  lips  of  officials  paid  to  offer  them. 

"And  this  Caffarelli,  now,"  he  pursued:  "he  is  a 
splendid  fellow,  too,  is  he  not  ?  I  have  not  heard  vastly 
much  of  him  myself.  No  details,  sir— no  details!  We 
labour  under  huge  difficulties  here  as  to  unbiassed  in- 
formation." 

"  I  believe  I  have  heard  the  same  complaint  in  other 
countries,"  I  could  not  help  remarking.  "But  as  to 
Caffarelli,  he  is  neither  lame  nor  blind,  he  has  two  legs, 
and  a  nose  in  the  middle  of  his  face.  And  I  care  as 
much  about  him  as  you  care  for  the  dead  body  of  Mr. 
Perceval ! " 

He  studied  me  with  glowing  eyes. 

"You  cannot  deceive  me!"  he  cried.  "You  have 
served  under  him.  You  are  a  Frenchman!  I  hold  by 
the  hand,  at  last,  one  of  that  noble  race,  the  pioneers  of 

123 


THE  GREAT  NORTH   ROAD 

the  glorious  principles  of  liberty  and  brotherhood. 
Hush!  No,  it  is  all  right.  I  thought  there  had  been 
somebody  at  the  door.  In  this  wretched,  enslaved 
country  we  dare  not  even  call  our  souls  our  own.  The 
spy  and  the  hangman,  sir— the  spy  and  the  hangman! 
And  yet  there  is  a  candle  burning,  too.  The  good 
leaven  is  working,  sir— working  underneath.  Even 
in  this  town  there  are  a  few  brave  spirits,  who  meet 
every  Wednesday.  You  must  stay  over  a  day  or  so, 
and  join  us.  We  do  not  use  this  house.  Another,  and 
a  quieter.  They  draw  fine  ale,  however— fair,  mild  ale. 
You  will  find  yourself  among  friends,  among  brothers. 
You  will  hear  some  very  daring  sentiments  expressed!'* 
he  cried,  expanding  his  small  chest.  "  Monarchy,  Chris- 
tianity—all the  trappings  of  a  bloated  past— the  Free 
Confraternity  of  Durham  and  Tyneside  deride." 

Here  was  a  devil  of  a  prospect  for  a  gentleman  whose 
whole  design  was  to  avoid  observation!  The  Free 
Confraternity  had  no  charms  for  me ;  daring  sentiments 
were  no  part  of  my  baggage ;  and  I  tried,  instead,  a  little 
cold  water. 

"  You  seem  to  forget,  sir,  that  my  Emperor  has  re- 
established Christianity,"  I  observed. 

"  Ah,  sir,  but  that  was  policy !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You 
do  not  understand  Napoleon.  I  have  followed  his  whole 
career.  I  can  explain  his  policy  from  first  to  last.  Now 
for  instance  in  the  Peninsula,  on  which  you  were  so 
very  amusing,  if  you  will  come  to  a  friend's  house  who 
has  a  map  of  Spain,  I  can  make  the  whole  course  of  the 
war  quite  clear  to  you,  I  venture  to  say,  in  half  an  hour." 

This  was  intolerable.  Of  the  two  extremes,  I  found 
I  preferred  the  British  Tory;  and,  making  an  appoint- 

123 


ST.  IVES 

ment  for  the  morrow,  I  pleaded  sudden  headache,  es- 
caped to  the  inn,  packed  my  knapsack,  and  fled,  about 
nine  at  night,  from  this  accursed  neighbourhood.  It  was 
cold,  starry,  and  clear,  and  the  road  dry,  with  a  touch  of 
frost.  For  all  that,  I  had  not  the  smallest  intention  to 
make  a  long  stage  of  it;  and  about  ten  o'clock,  spying 
on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  way  the  lighted  windows 
of  an  ale-house,  I  determined  to  bait  there  for  the  night. 

It  was  against  my  principle,  which  was  to  frequent 
only  the  dearest  inns ;  and  the  misadventure  that  befell 
me  was  sufficient  to  make  me  more  particular  in  the 
future.  A  large  company  was  assembled  in  the  parlour, 
which  was  heavy  with  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke  and 
brightly  lighted  up  by  a  roaring  fire  of  coal.  Hard  by 
the  chimney  stood  a  vacant  chair  in  what  I  thought  an 
enviable  situation,  whether  for  warmth  or  the  pleasures 
of  society ;  and  I  was  about  to  take  it,  when  the  nearest 
of  the  company  stopped  me  with  his  hand. 

"  Beg  thy  pardon,  sir,"  said  he;  "but  that  there  chair 
belongs  to  a  British  soldier." 

A  chorus  of  voices  enforced  and  explained.  It  was 
one  of  Lord  Wellington's  heroes.  He  had  been  wounded 
under  Rowland  Hill.  He  was  Colburne's  right-hand 
man.  In  short,  this  favoured  individual  appeared  to 
have  served  with  every  separate  corps  and  under  every 
individual  general  in  the  Peninsula.  Of  course  I  apolo- 
gised. I  had  not  known.  The  devil  was  in  it  if  a  sol- 
dier had  not  a  right  to  the  best  in  England.  And  with 
that  sentiment,  which  was  loudly  applauded,  I  found  a 
corner  of  a  bench,  and  awaited,  with  some  hopes  of 
entertainment,  the  return  of  the  hero.  He  proved,  of 
course,  to  be  a  private  soldier.     I  say  of  course,  because 

124 


THE  GREAT  NORTH   ROAD 

no  officer  could  possibly  enjoy  such  heights  of  popular- 
ity. He  had  been  wounded  before  San  Sebastian,  and 
still  wore  his  arm  in  a  sling.  What  was  a  great  deal 
worse  for  him,  every  member  of  the  company  had  been 
plying  him  with  drink.  His  honest  yokel's  countenance 
blazed  as  if  with  fever,  his  eyes  were  glazed  and  looked 
the  two  ways,  and  his  feet  stumbled  as,  amidst  a  mur- 
mur of  applause,  he  returned  to  the  midst  of  his  admirers. 

Two  minutes  afterwards  I  was  again  posting  in  the 
dark  along  the  highway ;  to  explain  which  sudden  move- 
ment of  retreat  1  must  trouble  the  reader  with  a  remi- 
niscence of  my  services. 

I  lay  one  night  with  the  out-pickets  in  Castile.  We 
were  in  close  touch  with  the  enemy;  the  usual  orders 
had  been  issued  against  smoking,  fires,  and  talk,  and 
both  armies  lay  as  quiet  as  mice,  when  I  saw  the  English 
sentinel  opposite  making  a  signal  by  holding  up  his 
musket.  I  repeated  it,  and  we  both  crept  together  in 
the  dry  bed  of  a  stream,  which  made  the  demarcation 
of  the  armies.  It  was  wine  he  wanted,  of  which  we 
had  a  good  provision,  and  the  English  had  quite  run  out. 
He  gave  me  the  money,  and  I,  as  was  the  custom,  left 
him  my  firelock  in  pledge,  and  set  off  for  the  canteen. 
When  I  returned  with  a  skin  of  wine,  behold,  it  had 
pleased  some  uneasy  devil  of  an  English  officer  to  with- 
draw the  outposts !  Here  was  a  situation  with  a  venge- 
ance, and  I  looked  for  nothing  but  ridicule  in  the 
present  and  punishment  in  the  future.  Doubtless  our 
officers  winked  pretty  hard  at  this  interchange  of  cour- 
tesies, but  doubtless  it  would  be  impossible  to  wink  at 
so  gross  a  fault,  or  rather  so  pitiable  a  misadventure  as 
mine;  and  you  are  to  conceive  me  wandering  in  the 

125 


ST.  IVES 

plains  of  Castile,  benighted,  charged  with  a  wine-skin 
for  which  I  had  no  use,  and  with  no  knowledge  what- 
ever of  the  whereabouts  of  my  musket  beyond  that  it 
was  somewhere  in  my  Lord  Wellington's  army.  But 
my  Englishman  was  either  a  very  honest  fellow,  or  else 
extremely  thirsty,  and  at  last  contrived  to  advertise  me 
of  his  new  position.  Now,  the  English  sentry  in  Cas- 
tile and  the  wounded  hero  in  the  Durham  public-house 
were  one  and  the  same  person;  and  if  he  had  been  a 
little  less  drunk,  or  myself  less  lively  in  getting  away, 
the  travels  of  M.  St.  Ives  might  have  come  to  an  untimely 
end. 

I  suppose  this  woke  me  up;  it  stirred  in  me  besides  a 
spirit  of  opposition,  and  in  spite  of  cold,  darkness,  the 
highwaymen  and  the  footpads,  I  determined  to  walk 
right  on  until  breakfast-time :  a  happy  resolution,  which 
enabled  me  to  observe  one  of  those  traits  of  manners 
which  at  once  depict  a  country  and  condemn  it.  It  was 
near  midnight  when  I  saw,  a  great  way  ahead  of  me, 
the  light  of  many  torches;  presently  after,  the  sound  of 
wheels  reached  me  and  the  slow  tread  of  feet,  and  soon 
I  had  joined  myself  to  the  rear  of  a  sordid,  silent,  and 
lugubrious  procession,  such  as  we  see  in  dreams.  Close 
on  a  hundred  persons  marched  by  torch-light  in  unbroken 
silence;  in  their  midst  a  cart,  and  in  the  cart,  on  an  in- 
clined platform,  the  dead  body  of  a  man— the  centre- 
piece of  this  solemnity,  the  hero  whose  obsequies  we 
were  come  forth  at  this  unusual  hour  to  celebrate.  It 
was  but  a  plain,  dingy  old  fellow  of  fifty  or  sixty,  his 
throat  cut,  his  shirt  turned  over  as  though  to  show  the 
wound.  Blue  trousers  and  brown  socks  completed  his 
attire,  if  we  can  talk  so  of  the  dead.     He  had  a  horrid 

126 


THE  GREAT  NORTH   ROAD 

look  of  a  waxwork.  In  the  tossing  of  the  lights  he 
seemed  to  make  faces  and  mouths  at  us,  to  frown,  and 
to  be  at  times  upon  the  point  of  speech.  The  cart,  with 
this  shabby  and  tragic  freight,  and  surrounded  by  its 
silent  escort  and  bright  torches,  continued  for  some  dis- 
tance to  creak  along  the  highroad,  and  1  to  follow  it  in 
amazement,  which  was  soon  exchanged  for  horror.  At 
the  corner  of  a  lane  the  procession  stopped,  and  as  the 
torches  ranged  themselves  along  the  hedgerow-side,  I 
became  aware  of  a  grave  dug  in  the  midst  of  the  thor- 
oughfare, and  a  provision  of  quicklime  piled  in  the  ditch. 
The  cart  was  backed  to  the  margin,  the  body  slung  off 
the  platform  and  dumped  into  the  grave  with  an  irrever- 
ent roughness.  A  sharpened  stake  had  hitherto  served 
it  for  a  pillow.  It  was  now  withdrawn,  held  in  its  place 
by  several  volunteers,  and  a  fellow  with  a  heavy  mallet 
(the  sound  of  which  still  haunts  me  at  night)  drove  it 
home  through  the  bosom  of  the  corpse.  The  hole  was 
filled  with  quicklime,  and  the  bystanders,  as  if  relieved 
of  some  oppression,  broke  at  once  into  a  sound  of  whis- 
pered speech. 

My  shirt  stuck  to  me,  my  heart  had  almost  ceased 
beating,  and  I  found  my  tongue  with  difficulty. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  gasped  to  a  neighbour,  "  what 
is  this  ?  what  has  he  done  ?  is  it  allowed  ?  " 
-  "  Why,  where  do  you  come  from  ?  "  replied  the  man. 

"  I  am  a  traveller,  sir,"  said  I,  "  and  a  total  stranger  in 
this  part  of  the  country.  I  had  lost  my  way  when  I  saw 
your  torches,  and  came  by  chance  on  this— this  incred- 
ible scene.     Who  was  the  man  ?  " 

"A  suicide,"  said  he.  "Ay,  he  was  a  bad  one,  was 
Johnnie  Green." 

127 


ST.  IVES 

It  appeared  this  was  a  wretch  who  had  committed 
many  barbarous  murders,  and  being  at  last  upon  the 
point  of  discovery  fell  of  his  own  hand.  And  the  night- 
mare at  the  cross-roads  was  the  regular  punishment, 
according  to  the  laws  of  England,  for  an  act  which  the 
Romans  honoured  as  a  virtue!  Whenever  an  English- 
man begins  to  prate  of  civilisation  (as,  indeed,  it's  a 
defect  they  are  rather  prone  to),  I  hear  the  measured 
blows  of  a  mallet,  see  the  bystanders  crowd  with  torches 
about  the  grave,  smile  a  little  to  myself  in  conscious 
superiority— and  take  a  thimbleful  of  brandy  for  the 
stomach's  sake. 

I  believe  it  must  have  been  at  my  next  stage,  for  I  re- 
member going  to  bed  extremely  early,  that  I  came  to  the 
model  of  a  good  old-fashioned  English  inn,  and  was  at- 
tended on  by  the  picture  of  a  pretty  chambermaid.  We 
had  a  good  many  pleasant  passages  as  she  waited  at 
table  or  warmed  my  bed  for  me  with  a  devil  of  a  brass 
warming-pan,  fully  larger  than  herself;  and  as  she  was 
no  less  pert  than  she  was  pretty,  she  may  be  said  to  have 
given  rather  better  than  she  took.  1  cannot  tell  why 
(unless  it  were  for  the  sake  of  her  saucy  eyes),  but  I 
made  her  my  confidante,  told  her  I  was  attached  to  a 
young  lady  in  Scotland,  and  received  the  encouragement 
of  her  sympathy,  mingled  and  connected  with  a  fair 
amount  of  rustic  wit.  While  I  slept  the  down-mail 
stopped  for  supper ;  it  chanced  that  one  of  the  passengers 
left  behind  a  copy  of  the  Edinburgh  Courant,  and  the  next 
morning  my  pretty  chambermaid  set  the  paper  before 
me  at  breakfast,  with  the  remark  that  there  was  some 
news  from  my  lady-love.  I  took  it  eagerly,  hoping  to 
find  some  further  word  of  our  escape,  in  which  I  was 
disappointed;  and  I  was  about  to  lay  it  down,  when 

128 


THE  GREAT  NORTH   ROAD 

my  eye  fell  on  a  paragraph  immediately  concerning  me. 
Faa  was  in  hospital,  grievously  sick,  and  warrants  were 
out  for  the  arrest  of  Sim  and  Candlish.  These  two  men 
had  shown  themselves  very  loyal  to  me.  This  trouble 
emerging,  the  least  I  could  do  was  to  be  guided  by  a 
similar  loyalty  to  them.  Suppose  my  visit  to  my  uncle 
crowned  with  some  success,  and  my  finances  re-estab- 
lished, I  determined  I  should  immediately  return  to  Ed- 
inburgh, put  their  case  in  the  hands  of  a  good  lawyer, 
and  await  events.  So  my  mind  was  very  lightly  made 
up  to  what  proved  a  mighty  serious  matter.  Candlish 
and  Sim  were  all  very  well  in  their  way,  and  I  do  sin- 
cerely trust  I  should  have  been  at  some  pains  to  help 
them,  had  there  been  nothing  else.  But  in  ti"uth  my 
eyes  and  my  heart  were  set  on  quite  another  matter, 
and  I  received  the  news  of  their  tribulation  almost  with 
joy.  That  is  never  a  bad  wind  that  blows  where  we 
want  to  go,  and  you  may  be  sure  there  was  nothing 
unwelcome  in  a  circumstance  that  carried  me  back  to 
Edinburgh  and  Flora.  From  that  hour  I  began  to  in- 
dulge myself  with  the  making  of  imaginary  scenes  and 
interviews,  in  which  I  confounded  the  aunt,  flattered 
Ronald,  and  now  in  the  witty,  now  in  the  sentimental 
manner,  declared  my  love  and  received  the  assurance  of 
its  return.  By  means  of  this  exercise  my  resolution 
daily  grew  stronger,  until  at  last  I  had  piled  together 
such  a  mass  of  obstinacy  as  it  would  have  taken  a  cata- 
clysm of  nature  to  subvert. 

"Yes,"  said  I  to  the  chambermaid,  "here  is  news  of 
my  lady-love  indeed,  and  very  good  news  too." 

All  that  day,  in  the  teeth  of  a  keen  winter  wind,  I 
hugged  myself  in  my  plaid,  and  it  was  as  though  her 
arms  were  flung  around  me. 

129 


CHAPTER  XII 

I  FOLLOW  A  COVERED   CART   NEARLY  TO  MY  DESTINATION 

At  last  I  began  to  draw  near,  by  reasonable  stages,  to 
the  neighbourhood  of  Wakefield ;  and  the  name  of  Mr. 
Burchell  Fenn  came  to  the  top  in  my  memory.  This 
was  the  gentleman  (the  reader  may  remember)  who 
made  a  trade  of  forwarding  the  escape  of  French  pris- 
oners. How  he  did  so:  whether  he  had  a  signboard, 
Escapes  forwarded,  apply  within;  what  he  charged  for 
his  services,  or  whether  they  were  gratuitous  and  chari- 
table, were  all  matters  of  which  I  was  at  once  ignorant 
and  extremely  curious.  Thanks  to  my  proficiency  in 
English,  and  Mr.  Romaine's  bank  notes,  I  was  getting 
on  swimmingly  without  him ;  but  the  trouble  was  that 
I  could  not  be  easy  till  I  had  come  at  the  bottom  of  these 
mysteries,  and  it  was  my  difficulty  that  I  knew  nothing 
of  him  beyond  the  name.  I  knew  not  his  trade— be- 
yond that  of  Forwarder  of  Escapes— whether  he  lived 
in  town  or  country,  whether  he  were  rich  or  poor,  nor 
by  what  kind  of  address  I  was  to  gain  his  confidence. 
It  would  have  a  very  bad  appearance  to  go  along  the 
highwayside  asking  after  a  man  of  whom  I  could  give 
so  scanty  an  account;  and  I  should  look  like  a  fool,  in- 
deed, if  I  were  to  present  myself  at  his  door  and  find  the 

130 


I   FOLLOW  A  COVERED  CART 

police  in  occupation !  The  interest  of  the  conundrum, 
however,  tempted  me,  and  I  turned  aside  from  my  direct 
road  to  pass  by  Wakefield;  kept  my  ears  pricked  as  I 
went  for  any  mention  of  his  name,  and  relied  for  the 
rest  on  my  good  fortune.  If  Luck  (who  must  certainly 
be  feminine)  favoured  me  as  far  as  to  throw  me  in  the 
man's  way,  I  should  owe  the  lady  a  candle;  if  not,  I 
could  very  readily  console  myself.  In  this  experimental 
humour,  and  with  so  little  to  help  me,  it  was  a  miracle 
that  I  should  have  brought  my  enterprise  to  a  good  end ; 
and  there  are  several  saints  in  the  calendar  who  might 
be  happy  to  exchange  with  St.  Ives ! 

I  had  slept  the  night  in  a  good  inn  at  Wakefield,  made 
my  breakfast  by  candle-light  with  the  passengers  of  an 
up-coach,  and  set  off  in  a  very  ill  temper  with  myself 
and  my  surroundings.  It  was  still  early;  the  air  raw 
and  cold;  the  sun  low,  and  soon  to  disappear  under  a 
vast  canopy  of  rain-clouds  that  had  begun  to  assemble 
in  the  north-west,  and  from  that  quarter  invaded  the 
whole  width  of  the  heaven.  Already  the  rain  fell  in 
crystal  rods;  already  the  whole  face  of  the  country 
sounded  with  the  discharge  of  drains  and  ditches ;  and 
I  looked  forward  to  a  day  of  downpour  and  the  hell  of 
wet  clothes,  in  which  particular  I  am  as  dainty  as  a  cat. 
At  a  corner  of  the  road,  and  by  the  last  glint  of  the 
drowning  sun,  I  spied  a  covered  cart,  of  a  kind  that  I 
thought  I  had  never  seen  before,  preceding  me  at  the 
foot's  pace  of  jaded  horses.  Anything  is  interesting  to 
a  pedestrian  that  can  help  him  to  forget  the  miseries  of 
a  day  of  rain ;  and  I  bettered  my  pace  and  gradually  over- 
took the  vehicle. 

The  nearer  I  came,  the  more  it  puzzled  me.  It  was 
131 


ST.  IVES 

much  such  a  cart  as  I  am  told  the  calico-printers  use, 
mounted  on  two  wheels,  and  furnished  with  a  seat  in 
front  for  the  driver.  The  interior  closed  with  a  door, 
and  was  of  a  bigness  to  contain  a  good  load  of  calico, 
or  (at  a  pinch  and  if  it  were  necessary)  four  or  five  per- 
sons. But,  indeed,  if  human  beings  were  meant  to 
travel  there,  they  had  my  pity !  They  must  travel  in  the 
dark,  for  there  was  no  sign  of  a  window;  and  they 
would  be  shaken  all  the  way  like  a  phial  of  doctor's 
stuff,  for  the  cart  was  not  only  ungainly  to  look  at— it 
was  besides  very  imperfectly  balanced  on  the  one  pair 
of  wheels,  and  pitched  unconscionably.  Altogether,  if 
1  had  any  glancing  idea  that  the  cart  was  really  a  carriage, 
I  had  soon  dismissed  it;  but  I  was  still  inquisitive  as  to 
what  it  should  contain,  and  where  it  had  come  from. 
Wheels  and  horses  were  splashed  with  many  different 
colours  of  mud,  as  though  they  had  come  far  and  across 
a  considerable  diversity  of  country.  The  driver  continu- 
ally and  vainly  plied  his  whip.  It  seemed  to  follow  they 
had  made  a  long,  perhaps  an  all-night,  stage;  and  that 
the  driver,  at  that  early  hour  of  a  little  after  eight  in  the 
morning,  already  felt  himself  belated.  I  looked  for  the 
name  of  the  proprietor  on  the  shaft,  and  started  out- 
right. Fortune  had  favoured  the  careless :  it  was  Bur- 
chell  Fenn! 

"  A  wet  morning,  my  man,"  said  I. 

The  driver,  a  loutish  fellow,  shock-headed  and  turnip- 
faced,  returned  not  a  word  to  my  salutation,  but  savagely 
flogged  his  horses.  The  tired  animals,  who  could  scarce 
put  the  one  foot  before  the  other,  paid  no  attention  to 
his  cruelty;  and  I  continued  without  effort  to  maintain 
my  position  alongside,  smiling  to  myself  at  the  futility 

132 


I   FOLLOW  A   COVERED   CART 

of  his  attempts,  and  at  the  same  time  pricked  with  curi- 
osity as  to  why  he  made  them.  I  made  no  such  formi- 
dable a  figure  as  that  a  man  should  flee  when  I  accosted 
him ;  and  my  conscience  not  being  entirely  clear,  I  was 
more  accustomed  to  be  uneasy  myself  than  to  see  others 
timid.  Presently  he  desisted,  and  put  back  his  whip  in 
the  holster  with  the  air  of  a  man  vanquished. 

"  So  you  would  run  away  from  me  ?  "  said  I.  "  Come, 
come,  that's  not  English." 

"Beg  pardon,  master:  no  offence  meant,"  ke  said, 
touching  his  hat. 

"  And  none  taken ! "  cried  I.  "  All  I  desire  is  a  little 
gaiety  by  the  way." 

I  understood  him  to  say  he  didn't  "  take  with  gaiety." 

"Then  I  will  try  you  with  something  else,"  said  I. 
"O,  I  can  be  all  things  to  all  men,  like  the  apostle!  I 
dare  to  say  I  have  travelled  with  heavier  fellows  than 
you  in  my  time,  and  done  famously  well  with  them. 
Are  you  going  home  ?  " 

"Yes,  I'm  a-goin'  home,  I  am,"  he  said. 

"  A  very  fortunate  circumstance  for  me !  "  said  I.  "  At 
this  rate  we  shall  see  a  good  deal  of  each  other,  going 
the  same  way;  and,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  why 
should  you  not  give  me  a  cast  ?  There  is  room  beside 
you  on  the  bench." 

With  a  sudden  snatch,  he  carried  the  cart  two  yards 
into  the  roadway.  The  horses  plunged  and  came  to  a 
stop,  "  No,  you  don't !  "  he  said,  menacing  me  with  the 
whip.     "  None  o'  that  with  me." 

"  None  of  what  ?  "  said  I.  "  I  asked  you  for  a  lift,  but 
I  have  no  idea  of  taking  one  by  force." 

"  Well,  I've  got  to  take  care  of  the  cart  and  'orses,  I 
133 


ST.  IVES 

have,"  says  he.     "I  don't  take  up  with  no  runagate 
vagabones,  you  see,  else." 

"  I  ought  to  thank  you  for  your  touching  confidence," 
said  I,  approaching  carelessly  nearer  as  I  spoke.  "  But 
I  admit  the  road  is  solitary  hereabouts,  and  no  doubt  an 
accident  soon  happens.  Little  fear  of  anything  of  the 
kind  with  you!  1  like  you  for  it,  like  your  prudence, 
like  that  pastoral  shyness  of  disposition.  But  why  not 
put  it  out  of  my  power  to  hurt  ?  Why  not  open  the 
door  and  bestow  me  here  in  the  box,  or  whatever  you 
please  to  call  it  ?  "  And  I  laid  my  hand  demonstratively 
on  the  body  of  the  cart. 

He  had  been  timorous  before ;  but  at  this,  he  seemed 
to  lose  the  power  of  speech  a  moment,  and  stared  at  me 
in  a  perfect  enthusiasm  of  fear. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  I  continued.  "  The  idea  is  good.  I 
should  be  safe  in  there  if  I  were  the  monster  Williams 
himself.  The  great  thing  is  to  have  me  under  lock  and 
key.  For  it  does  lock;  it  is  locked  now,"  said  I,  trying 
the  door.  ''Apropos,  what  have  you  for  a  cargo  ?  It 
must  be  precious." 

He  found  not  a  word  to  answer. 

Rat-tat-tat,  I  went  upon  the  door  like  a  well-drilled 
footman.  "  Any  one  at  home  ?  "  I  said,  and  stooped  to 
listen. 

There  came  out  of  the  interior  a  stifled  sneeze, 
the  first  of  an  uncontrollable  paroxysm;  another  fol- 
lowed immediately  on  the  heels  of  it;  and  then  the 
driver  turned  with  an  oath,  laid  the  lash  upon  the 
horses  with  so  much  energy  that  they  found  their  heels 
again,  and  the  whole  equipage  fled  down  the  road  at  a 
gallop. 

i34 


I   FOLLOW  A  COVERED  CART 

At  the  first  sound  of  the  sneeze,  I  had  started  back, 
like  a  man  shot.  The  next  moment,  a  great  light  broke- 
on  my  mind,  and  I  understood.  Here  was  the  secret  of 
Fenn's  trade :  this  was  how  he  forwarded  the  escape  of 
prisoners,  hawking  them  by  night  about  the  country  in 
his  covered  cart.  There  had  been  Frenchmen  close  to- 
me; he  who  had  just  sneezed  was  my  countryman,  my 
comrade,  perhaps  already  my  friend !  1  took  to  my  heels 
in  pursuit.  "  Hold  hard!  "  I  shouted.  "Stop!  It's  all 
right !  Stop !  "  But  the  driver  only  turned  a  white  face 
on  me  for  a  moment,  and  redoubled  his  efforts,  bending 
forward,  plying  his  whip  and  crying  to  his  horses ;  these 
lay  themselves  down  to  the  gallop  and  beat  the  highway 
with  flying  hoofs;  and  the  cart  bounded  after  them 
among  the  ruts  and  fled  in  a  halo  of  rain  and  spattering 
mud.  But  a  minute  since,  and  it  had  been  trundling 
along  like  a  lame  cow;  and  now  it  was  off  as  though 
drawn  by  Apollo's  coursers.  There  is  no  telling  what 
a  man  can  do,  until  you  frighten  him! 

It  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  myself,  though  I  ran 
valiantly,  to  maintain  my  distance;  and  that  (since  I 
knew  my  countrymen  so  near)  was  become  a  chief  point 
with  me.  A  hundred  yards  farther  on  the  cart  whipped 
out  of  the  highroad  into  a  lane  embowered  with  leafless 
trees,  and  became  lost  to  view.  When  I  saw  it  next, 
the  driver  had  increased  his  advantage  considerably,  but 
all  danger  was  at  an  end,  and  the  horses  had  again  de- 
clined into  a  hobbling  walk.  Persuaded  that  they  could 
not  escape  me,  I  took  my  time,  and  recovered  my  breath 
as  I  followed  them. 

Presently  the  lane  twisted  at  right  angles,  and  showed 
me  a  gate  and  the  beginning  of  a  gravel  sweep ;  and  a 

135 


ST.  IVES 

little  after,  as  I  continued  to  advance,  a  red  brick  house 
about  seventy  years  old,  in  a  fine  style  of  architecture, 
and  presenting  a  front  of  many  windows  to  a  lawn  and 
garden.  Behind,  I  could  see  outhouses  and  the  peaked 
roofs  of  stacks;  and  1  judged  that  a  manor-house  had 
in  some  way  declined  to  be  the  residence  of  a  tenant- 
farmer,  careless  alike  of  appearances  and  substantial 
comfort.  The  marks  of  neglect  were  visible  on  every 
side,  in  flower-bushes  straggling  beyond  the  borders,  in 
the  ill-kept  turf,  and  in  the  broken  windows  that  were 
incongruously  patched  with  paper  or  stuffed  with  rags. 
A  thicket  of  trees,  mostly  evergreen,  fenced  the  place 
round  and  secluded  it  from  the  eyes  of  prying  neigh- 
bours. As  I  came  in  view  of  it,  on  that  melancholy 
winter's  morning,  in  the  deluge  of  the  falling  rain,  and 
with  the  wind  that  now  rose  in  occasional  gusts  and 
hooted  over  the  old  chimneys,  the  cart  had  already  drawn 
up  at  the  front  door-steps,  and  the  driver  was  already 
in  earnest  discourse  with  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn.  He  was 
standing  with  his  hands  behind  his  back— a  man  of  a 
gross,  misbegotten  face  and  body,  dewlapped  like  a  bull 
and  red  as  a  harvest  moon;  and  in  his  jockey  cap,  blue 
coat,  and  top-boots,  he  had  much  the  air  of  a  good,  solid 
tenant-farmer. 

The  pair  continued  to  speak  as  I  came  up  the  approach, 
but  received  me  at  last  in  a  sort  of  goggling  silence.  I 
had  my  hat  in  my  hand. 

"  I  have  the  pleasure  of  addressing  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn  ?" 
said  I. 

"The  same,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Fenn,  taking  off  his 
jockey  cap  in  answer  to  my  civility,  but  with  the  distant 
look  and  the  tardy  movements  of  one  who  continues  to 

136 


I   FOLLOW   A   COVERED   CART 

think  of  something  else.  "  And  who  may  you  be  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"I  shall  tell  you  afterwards,"  said  I.  "Suffice  it,  in 
the  meantime,  that  I  come  on  business." 

He  seemed  to  digest  my  answer  laboriously,  his  mouth 
gaping,  his  little  eyes  never  straying  from  my  face. 

"  Sufifer  me  to  point  out  to  you,  sir,"  I  resumed,  "  that 
this  is  a  devil  of  a  wet  morning;  and  that  the  chimney- 
corner,  and  possibly  a  glass  of  something  hot,  are  clearly 
indicated." 

Indeed,  the  rain  was  now  grown  to  be  a  deluge;  the 
gutters  of  the  house  roared ;  the  air  was  filled  with  the 
continuous,  strident  crash.  The  stolidity  of  his  face,  on 
which  the  rain  streamed,  was  far  from  reassuring  me. 
On  the  contrary,  I  was  aware  of  a  distinct  qualm  of  ap- 
prehension, which  was  not  at  all  lessened  by  a  view  of 
the  driver,  craning  from  his  perch  to  observe  us  with 
the  expression  of  a  fascinated  bird.  So  we  stood  silent, 
when  the  prisoner  again  began  to  sneeze  from  the  body 
of  the  cart;  and  at  the  sound,  prompt  as  a  transforma- 
tion, the  driver  had  whipped  up  his  horses  and  was 
shambling  off  round  the  corner  of  the  house,  and  Mr. 
Fenn,  recovering  his  wits  with  a  gulp,  had  turned  to  the 
door  behind  him. 

"  Come  in,  come  in,  sir,"  he  said.  "  I  beg  your  par- 
don, sir;  the  lock  goes  a  trifle  hard." 

Indeed,  it  took  him  a  surprising  time  to  open  the  door, 
which  was  not  only  locked  on  the  outside,  but  the  lock 
seemed  rebellious  from  disuse;  and  when  at  last  he 
stood  back  and  motioned  me  to  enter  before  him,  I  was 
greeted  on  the  threshold  by  that  peculiar  and  convincing 
sound  of  the  rain  echoing  over  empty  chambers.     The 

137 


ST.  IVES 

entrance  hall,  in  which  I  now  found  myself,  was  of  a 
good  size  and  good  proportions ;  potted  plants  occupied 
the  corners;  the  paved  floor  was  soiled  with  muddy 
footprints  and  encumbered  with  straw;  on  a  mahogany 
hall  table,  which  was  the  only  furniture,  a  candle  had 
been  stuck  and  suffered  to  burn  down— plainly  a  long 
while  ago,  for  the  gutterings  were  green  with  mould. 
My  mind,  under  these  new  impressions,  worked  with 
unusual  vivacity.  I  was  here  shut  off  with  Fenn  and 
his  hireling  in  a  deserted  house,  a  neglected  garden,  and 
a  wood  of  evergreens:  the  most  eligible  theatre  for  a 
deed  of  darkness.  There  came  to  me  a  vision  of  two 
flags  raised  in  the  hall  floor,  and  the  driver  putting  in 
the  rainy  afternoon  over  my  grave,  and  the  prospect 
displeased  me  extremely.  I  felt  I  had  carried  my  plea- 
santry as  far  as  was  safe;  I  must  lose  no  time  in  declar- 
ing my  true  character,  and  I  was  even  choosing  the 
words  in  which  I  was  to  begin,  when  the  hall  door  was 
slammed  to  behind  me  with  a  bang,  and  I  turned, 
dropping  my  stick  as  I  did  so,  in  time— and  not  any 
more  than  time— to  save  my  life. 

The  surprise  of  the  onslaught  and  the  huge  weight  of 
my  assailant  gave  him  the  advantage.  He  had  a  pistol 
in  his  right  hand  of  a  portentous  size,  which  it  took  me 
all  my  strength  to  keep  deflected.  With  his  left  arm 
he  strained  me  to  his  bosom,  so  that  I  thought  I  must 
be  crushed  or  stifled.  His  mouth  was  open,  his  face 
crimson,  and  he  panted  aloud  with  hard  animal  sounds. 
The  affair  was  as  brief  as  it  was  hot  and  sudden.  The 
potations  which  had  swelled  and  bloated  his  carcase  had 
already  weakened  the  springs  of  energy.  One  more 
huge  effort,  that  came  near  to  overpower  me,  and  in 

138 


I   FOLLOW   A   COVERED   CART 

which  the  pistol  happily  exploded,  and  I  felt  his  grasp 
slacken  and  weakness  come  on  his  joints;  his  legs  suc- 
cumbed under  his  weight,  and  he  grovelled  on  his  knees 
on  the  stone  floor.     "  Spare  me!  "  he  gasped. 

I  had  not  only  been  abominably  frightened;  I  was 
shocked  besides :  my  delicacy  was  in  arms,  like  a  lady 
to  whom  violence  should  have  been  offered  by  a  similar 
monster.  I  plucked  myself  from  his  horrid  contact,  I 
snatched  the  pistol— even  discharged,  it  was  a  formi- 
dable weapon— and  menaced  him  with  the  butt.  "  Spare 
you!  "  I  cried:  "you  beast!  " 

His  voice  died  in  his  fat  inwards,  but  his  lips  still 
vehemently  framed  the  same  words  of  supplication. 
My  anger  began  to  pass  off,  but  not  all  my  repugnance ; 
the  picture  he  made  revolted  me,  and  I  was  impatient  to 
be  spared  the  further  view  of  it. 

"  Here,"  said  I,  "  stop  this  performance:  it  sickens  me. 
I  am  not  going  to  kill  you,  do  you  hear  ?  I  have  need 
of  you." 

A  look  of  relief,  that  I  could  almost  have  called  beau- 
tiful, dawned  on  his  countenance.  "  Anything— any- 
thing you  wish,"  said  he. 

Anything  is  a  big  word,  and  his  use  of  it  brought  me 
for  a  moment  to  a  stand.  "  Why,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 
I  asked.  "  Do  you  mean  that  you  will  blow  the  gaff  on 
the  whole  business  ?  " 

He  answered  me  Yes  with  eager  asseverations. 

"  I  know  M.  de  Saint-Yves  is  in  it;  it  was  through  his 
papers  we  traced  you,"  I  said.  "Do  you  consent  to 
make  a  clean  breast  of  the  others  ?  " 

"I  do— I  will!"  he  cried.  "The  'ole  crew  of  'em; 
there's  good  names  among  'em.    I'll  be  king's  evidence.  '* 

139 


ST.  IVES 

"  So  that  all  shall  hang  except  yourself  ?  You  damned 
villain! "  I  broke  out.  "  Understand  at  once  that  J  am 
no  spy  or  thief-taker.  I  am  a  kinsman  of  M.  de  Saint- 
Yves— here  in  his  interest.  Upon  my  word,  you  have 
put  your  foot  in  it  prettily,  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn !  Come, 
stand  up;  don't  grovel  there.  Stand  up,  you  lump  of 
iniquity! " 

He  scrambled  to  his  feet.  He  was  utterly  unmanned, 
or  it  might  have  gone  hard  with  me  yet;  and  1  consid- 
ered him  hesitating,  as,  indeed,  there  was  cause.  The 
man  was  a  double-dyed  traitor:  he  had  tried  to  murder 
me,  and  I  had  first  baffled  his  endeavours  and  then  ex- 
posed and  insulted  him.  Was  it  wise  to  place  myself 
any  longer  at  his  mercy  ?  With  his  help  I  should  doubt- 
less travel  more  quickly ;  doubtless  also  far  less  agree- 
ably; and  there  was  everything  to  show  that  it  would 
be  at  a  greater  risk.  In  short,  I  should  have  washed 
my  hands  of  him  on  the  spot,  but  for  the  temptation  of 
the  French  officers,  whom  I  knew  to  be  so  near,  and  for 
whose  society  I  felt  so  great  and  natural  an  impatience. 
If  I  was  to  see  anything  of  my  countrymen,  it  was  clear 
I  had  first  of  all  to  make  my  peace  with  Mr.  Fenn;  and 
that  was  no  easy  matter.  To  make  friends  with  any 
one  implies  concessions  on  both  sides;  and  what  could 
I  concede  ?  What  could  I  say  of  him,  but  that  he  had 
proved  himself  a  villain  and  a  fool,  and  the  worse  man  ? 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  here  has  been  rather  a  poor  piece  of 
business,  which  I  dare  say  you  can  have  no  pleasure 
in  calling  to  mind ;  and,  to  say  truth,  I  would  as  readily 
forget  it  myself.  Suppose  we  try.  Take  back  your 
pistol,  which  smells  very  ill;  put  it  in  your  pocket  or 
wherever  you  had  it  concealed.     There!    Now  let  us 

140 


I   FOLLOW  A  COVERED   CART 

meet  for  the  first  time.— Give  you  good  morning,  Mr. 
Fenn !  I  hope  you  do  very  well.  I  come  on  the  recom- 
mendation of  my  kinsman,  the  Vicomte  de  Saint-Yves." 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Do  you  mean  you 
will  pass  over  our  little  scrimmage  ?  " 

"  Why,  certainly !  "  said  I.  "  It  shows  you  are  a  bold 
fellow,  who  may  be  trusted  to  forget  the  business  when 
it  comes  to  the  point.  There  is  nothing  against  you  in 
the  little  scrimmage,  unless  that  your  courage  is  greater 
than  your  strength.  You  are  not  so  young  as  you  once 
were,  that  is  all." 

"  And  I  beg  of  you,  sir,  don't  betray  me  to  the  Vis- 
count," he  pleaded.  "I'll  not  deny  but  what  my  'eart 
failed  me  a  trifle ;  but  it  was  only  a  word,  sir,  what  any- 
body might  have  said  in  the  'eat  of  the  moment,  and 
over  with  it." 

"  Certainly, "  said  I.     "  That  is  quite  my  own  opinion. " 

"  The  way  I  came  to  be  anxious  about  the  Vis-count," 
he  continued,  "  is  that  I  believe  he  might  be  induced  to 
form  an  'asty  judgment.  And  the  business,  in  a  pecu- 
niary point  of  view,  is  all  that  I  could  ask ;  only  trying, 
sir— very  trying.  It's  making  an  old  man  of  me  before 
my  time.  You  might  have  observed  yourself,  sir,  that 
I  'aven't  got  the  knees  I  once  'ad.  The  knees  and  the 
breathing,  there's  where  it  takes  me.  But  I'm  very 
sure,  sir,  I  address  a  gentleman  as  would  be  the  last  to 
make  trouble  between  friends." 

"  I  am  sure  you  do  me  no  more  than  justice,"  said  I; 
"  and  I  shall  think  it  quite  unnecessary  to  dwell  on  any 
of  these  passing  circumstances  in  my  report  to  the  Vi- 
comte." 

"  Which  you  do  favour  him  (if  you'll  excuse  me  being 
141 


ST.  IVES 

SO  bold  as  to  mention  it)  exac'ly !  "  said  he.  "  I  should 
have  known  you  anywheres.  May  I  offer  you  a  pot  of 
'ome-brewed  ale,  sir?  By  your  leave!  This  way,  if 
you  please.  I  am  'eartily  grateful— 'eartily  pleased  to 
be  of  any  service  to  a  gentleman  like  you,  sir,  which  is 
related  to  the  Vis-count,  and  really  a  fambly  of  which 
you  might  well  be  proud!  Take  care  of  the  step,  sir. 
You  have  good  news  of  'is  'ealth,  I  trust  ?  as  well  as 
that  of  Monseer  the  Count  ?  " 

God  forgive  me!  the  horrible  fellow  was  still  puffing 
and  panting  with  the  fury  of  his  assault,  and  already  he 
had  fallen  into  an  obsequious,  wheedling  familiarity  like 
that  of  an  old  servant,— already  he  was  flattering  me  on 
my  family  connections ! 

I  followed  him  through  the  house  into  the  stable-yard, 
where  I  observed  the  driver  washing  the  cart  in  a  shed. 
He  must  have  heard  the  explosion  of  the  pistol.  He 
could  not  choose  but  hear  it:  the  thing  was  shaped  like 
a  little  blunderbuss,  charged  to  the  mouth,  and  made  a 
report  like  a  piece  of  field-artillery.  He  had  heard,  he 
had  paid  no  attention;  and  now,  as  we  came  forth  by 
the  back  door,  he  raised  for  a  moment  a  pale  and  tell- 
tale face  that  was  as  direct  as  a  confession.  The  rascal 
had  expected  to  see  Fenn  come  forth  alone;  he  was 
waiting  to  be  called  on  for  that  part  of  sexton,  which  I 
had  already  allotted  to  him  in  fancy. 

I  need  not  detain  the  reader  very  long  with  any  de- 
scription of  my  visit  to  the  back  kitchen;  of  how  we 
mulled  our  ale  there,  and  mulled  it  very  well;  nor  of 
how  we  sat  talking,  Fenn  like  an  old,  faithful,  affection- 
ate dependant,  and  I— well!  I  myself  fallen  into  a  mere 
admiration  of  so  much  impudence,  that  transcended 

14a 


I   FOLLOW  A  COVERED   CART 

words,  and  had  very  soon  conquered  animosity.  I  took 
a  fancy  to  the  man,  he  was  so  vast  a  humbug.  I  began 
to  see  a  kind  of  beauty  in  him,  his  aplomb  was  so  ma- 
jestic. I  never  knew  a  rogue  to  cut  so  fat;  his  villainy 
was  ample,  like  his  belly,  and  I  could  scarce  find  it  in 
my  heart  to  hold  him  responsible  for  either.  He  was 
good  enough  to  drop  into  the  autobiographical;  telling 
me  how  the  farm,  in  spite  of  the  war  and  the  high 
prices,  had  proved  a  disappointment;  how  there  was  "  a 
sight  of  cold,  wet  land  as  you  come  along  the  'ighroad  " ; 
how  the  winds  and  rains  and  the  seasons  had  been  mis- 
directed, it  seemed  "o'  purpose";  how  Mrs.  Fenn  had 
died—"  I  lost  her  coming  two  year  agone;  a  remarkable 
fine  woman,  my  old  girl,  sir!  if  you'll  excuse  me,"  he 
added,  with  a  burst  of  humility.  In  short,  he  gave  me 
an  opportunity  of  studying  Jolyi  Bull,  as  I  may  say, 
stuffed  naked— his  greed,  his  usuriousness,  his  hypoc- 
risy, his  perfidy  of  the  back  stairs,  all  swelled  to  the 
superlative— such  as  was  well  worth  the  little  disarray 
and  fluster  of  our  passage  in  the  hall. 


143 


CHAPTER  XIII 

I   MEET   TWO   OF   MY   COUNTRYMEN 

As  soon  as  I  judged  it  safe,  and  that  was  not  before 
Burchell  Fenn  had  talked  himself  back  into  his  breath 
and  a  complete  good-humour,  I  proposed  he  should  in- 
troduce me  to  the  French  officers,  henceforth  to  become 
my  fellow-passengers.  There  were  two  of  them,  it  ap- 
peared, and  my  heart  beat  as  I  approached  the  door. 
The  specimen  of  Perfidious  Albion  whom  I  had  just  been 
studying  gave  me  the  stronger  zest  for  my  fellow-coun- 
trymen. I  could  have  embraced  them;  I  could  have 
wept  on  their  necks.  And  all  the  time  I  was  going  to 
a  disappointment. 

It  was  in  a  spacious  and  low  room,  with  an  outlook 
on  the  court,  that  I  found  them  bestowed.  In  the  good 
days  of  that  house  the  apartment  had  probably  served 
as  a  library,  for  there  were  traces  of  shelves  along  the 
wainscot.  Four  or  five  mattresses  lay  on  the  floor  in  a 
corner,  with  a  frowzy  heap  of  bedding;  near  by  was  a 
basin  and  a  cube  of  soap;  a  rude  kitchen  table  and  some 
deal  chairs  stood  together  at  the  far  end ;  and  the  room 
was  illuminated  by  no  less  than  four  windows,  and 
warmed  by  a  little  crazy,  sidelong  grate,  propped  up 
with  bricks  in  the  vent  of  a  hospitable  chimney,  in 

144 


1   MEET  TWO   OF  MY   COUNTRYMEN 

which  a  pile  of  coals  smoked  prodigiously  and  gave  out 
a  few  starveling  flames.  An  old,  frail,  white-haired 
officer  sat  in  one  of  the  chairs,  which  he  had  drawn 
close  to  this  apology  for  a  fire.  He  was  wrapped  in  a 
camlet  cloak,  of  which  the  collar  was  turned  up,  his 
knees  touched  the  bars,  his  hands  were  spread  in  the 
very  smoke,  and  yet  he  shivered  for  cold.  The  second 
—a  big,  florid,  fine  animal  of  a  man,  whose  every  ges- 
ture labelled  him  the  cock  of  the  walk  and  the  admira- 
tion of  the  ladies— had  apparently  despaired  of  the  fire, 
and  now  strode  up  and  down,  sneezing  hard,  bitterly 
blowing  his  nose,  and  proffering  a  continual  stream  of 
bluster,  complaint,  and  barrack-room  oaths. 

Fenn  showed  me  in,  with  the  brief  form  of  introduc- 
tion: "Gentlemen  all,  this  here's  another  fare!"  and 
was  gone  again  at  once.  The  old  man  gave  me  but  the 
one  glance  out  of  lack-lustre  eyes ;  and  even  as  he  looked 
a  shiver  took  him  as  sharp  as  a  hiccough.  But  the 
other,  who  represented  to  admiration  the  picture  of  a 
Beau  in  a  Catarrh,  stared  at  me  arrogantly. 

"  And  who  are  you,  sir  ?  "  he  asked. 

I  made  the  military  salute  to  my  superiors. 

"  Champdivers,  private.  Eighth  of  the  Line,"  said  I. 

"  Pretty  business !  "  said  he.  "  And  you  are  going  on 
with  us  ?  Three  in  a  cart,  and  a  great  trolloping  private 
at  that!  And  who  is  to  pay  for  you,  my  fine  fellow  ? " 
he  inquired. 

"  If  monsieur  comes  to  that, "  I  answered  civilly,  "  who 
paid  for  him  ?  " 

"O,  if  you  choose  to  play  the  wit!"  said  he,— and 
began  to  rail  at  large  upon  his  destiny,  the  weather,  the 
cold,  the  danger  and  the  expense  of  the  escape,  and 

M5 


ST.  IVES 

above  all,  the  cooking  of  the  accursed  English.  It 
seemed  to  annoy  him  particularly  that  I  should  have 
joined  their  party.  *'  If  you  knew  what  you  were  doing, 
thirty  thousand  millions  of  pigs!  you  would  keep  your- 
self to  yourself!  The  horses  can't  drag  the  cart;  the 
roads  are  all  ruts  and  swamps.  No  longer  ago  than  last 
night  the  colonel  and  I  had  to  march  half  the  way- 
thunder  of  God!— half  the  way  to  the  knees  in  mud— 
and  I  with  this  infernal  cold— and  the  danger  of  detec- 
tion! Happily  we  met  no  one:  a  desert— a  real  desert 
—like  the  whole  abominable  country!  Nothing  to  eat 
—no,  sir,  there  is  nothing  to  eat  but  raw  cow  and  greens 
boiled  in  water— nor  to  drink  but  Worcestershire  sauce! 
Now  I,  with  my  catarrh,  I  have  no  appetite;  is  it  not  so  ? 
V/ell,  if  I  were  in  France,  I  should  have  a  good  soup 
with  a  crust  in  it,  an  omelette,  a  fowl  in  rice,  a  partridge 
in  cabbages— things  to  tempt  me,  thunder  of  God !  But 
here— day  of  God!— what  a  country!  And  cold,  too! 
They  talk  about  Russia— this  is  all  the  cold  I  want !  And 
the  people— look  at  them!  What  a  race!  Never  any 
handsome  men ;  never  any  fine  officers !  "—and  he  looked 
down  complacently  for  a  moment  at  his  waist—"  And 
the  women— what  fagots!  No,  that  is  one  point  clear, 
I  cannot  stomach  the  English!  " 

There  was  something  in  this  man  so  antipathetic  to 
me,  as  sent  the  mustard  into  my  nose.  I  can  never  bear 
your  bucks  and  dandies,  even  when  they  are  decent- 
looking  and  well  dressed;  and  the  major— for  that  was 
his  rank— was  the  image  of  a  flunkey  in  good  luck. 
Even  to  be  in  agreement  with  him,  or  to  seem  to  be  so, 
was  more  than  I  could  make  out  to  endure. 

"You  could  scarce  be  expected  to  stomach  them," 
146 


I   MEET  TWO   OF  MY  COUNTRYMEN 

said  I  civilly,  "after  having  just  digested  your  pa- 
role." 

He  whipped  round  on  his  heel  and  turned  on  me  a 
countenance  which  I  dare  say  he  imagined  to  be  awful; 
but  another  fit  of  sneezing  cut  him  off  ere  he  could  come 
the  length  of  speech. 

"  I  have  not  tried  the  dish  myself,"  I  took  the  oppor- 
tunity to  add.  "  It  is  said  to  be  unpalatable.  Did  mon- 
sieur find  it  so  ?  " 

With  surprising  vivacity  the  colonel  woke  from  his 
lethargy.  He  was  between  us  ere  another  word  could 
pass. 

"  Shame,  gentlemen !  "  he  said.  "  Is  this  a  time  for 
Frenchmen  and  fellow-soldiers  to  fall  out  ?  We  are  in 
the  midst  of  our  enemies ;  a  quarrel,  a  loud  word,  may 
suffice  to  plunge  us  back  into  irretrievable  distress. 
Monsieur  le  commandant,  you  have  been  gravely 
offended.  I  make  it  my  request,  I  make  it  my  prayer— 
if  need  be,  I  give  you  my  orders— that  the  matter  shall 
stand  by  until  we  come  safe  to  France.  Then,  if  you 
please,  I  will  serve  you  in  any  capacity.  And  for  you, 
young  man,  you  have  shown  all  the  cruelty  and  care- 
lessness of  youth.  This  gentleman  is  your  superior;  he 
is  no  longer  young  "—at  which  word  you  are  to  conceive 
the  major's  face.  "It  is  admitted  he  has  broken  his 
parole.  I  know  not  his  reason,  and  no  more  do  you. 
It  might  be  patriotism  in  this  hour  of  our  country's  ad- 
versity, it  might  be  humanity,  necessity ;  you  know  not 
what  in  the  least,  and  you  permit  yourself  to  reflect  on 
his  honour.  To  break  parole  may  be  a  subject  for  pity 
and  not  derision.  I  have  broken  mine— I,  a  colonel  of 
the  Empire.     And  why  }    I  have  been  years  negotiating 

»47 


ST.  IVES 

my  exchange,  and  it  cannot  be  managed;  those  who 
have  influence  at  the  Ministry  of  War  continually  rush 
in  before  me,  and  I  have  to  wait,  and  my  daughter  at 
home  is  in  a  decline.  I  am  going  to  see  my  daughter 
at  last,  and  it  is  my  only  concern  lest  I  should  have  de- 
layed too  long.  She  is  ill,  and  very  ill,— at  death's  door. 
Nothing  is  left  me  but  my  daughter,  my  Emperor,  and 
my  honour;  and  I  give  my  honour,  blame  me  for  it  who 
dare!" 

At  this  my  heart  smote  me. 

**  For  God's  sake,"  1  cried,  "think  no  more  of  what  I 
have  said !  A  parole  ?  what  is  a  parole  against  life  and 
death  and  love  ?  I  ask  your  pardon ;  this  gentleman's 
also.  As  long  as  1  shall  be  with  you,  you  shall  not  have 
cause  to  complain  of  me  again.  1  pray  God  you  will 
find  your  daughter  alive  and  restored." 

"That  is  past  praying  for,"  said  the  colonel;  and  im- 
mediately the  brief  fire  died  out  of  him,  and  returning  to 
the  hearth,  he  relapsed  into  his  former  abstraction. 

But  I  was  not  so  easy  to  compose.  The  knowledge 
of  the  poor  gentleman's  trouble  and  the  sight  of  his  face 
had  filled  me  with  the  bitterness  of  remorse;  and  I  in- 
sisted upon  shaking  hands  with  the  major  (which  he 
did  with  a  very  ill  grace),  and  abounded  in  palinodes 
and  apologies. 

"  After  all,"  said  I,  "  who  am  I  to  talk  ?  I  am  in  the 
luck  to  be  a  private  soldier;  I  have  no  parole  to  give  or 
to  keep ;  once  1  am  over  the  rampart,  I  am  as  free  as  air. 
I  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  regret  from  my  soul  the  use 
of  these  ungenerous  expressions.  Allow  me.  ...  Is 
there  no  way  in  this  damned  house  to  attract  attention  ? 
Where  is  this  fellow,  Fenn  ?  " 

148 


I   MEET  TWO   OF  MY   COUNTRYMEN 

I  ran  to  one  of  the  windows  and  threw  it  open. 
Fenn,  who  was  at  the  moment  passing  below  in  the 
court,  cast  up  his  arms  like  one  in  despair,  called  to  me 
to  keep  back,  plunged  into  the  house,  and  appeared  next 
moment  in  the  doorway  of  the  chamber. 

"  O,  sir!  "  says  he,  "  keep  away  from  those  there  win- 
dows.    A  body  might  see  you  from  the  back  lane." 

"  It  is  registered,"  said  I.  "  Henceforward  I  will  be  a 
mouse  for  precaution  and  a  ghost  for  invisibility.  But 
in  the  meantime,  for  God's  sake,  fetch  us  a  bottle  of 
brandy!  Your  room  is  as  damp  as  the  bottom  of  a 
well,  and  these  gentlemen  are  perishing  of  cold." 

So  soon  as  I  had  paid  him  (for  everything,  I  found, 
must  be  paid  in  advance),  I  turned  my  attention  to  the 
fire,  and  whether  because  1  threw  greater  energy  into 
the  business,  or  because  the  coals  were  now  warmed 
and  the  time  ripe,  I  soon  started  a  blaze  that  made  the 
chimney  roar  again.  The  shine  of  it,  in  that  dark,  rainy 
day,  seemed  to  reanimate  the  colonel  like  a  blink  of  sun. 
With  the  outburst  of  the  flames,  besides,  a  draught  was 
established,  which  immediately  delivered  us  from  the 
plague  of  smoke ;  and  by  the  time  Fenn  returned,  carry- 
ing a  bottle  under  his  arm  and  a  single  tumbler  in  his 
hand,  there  was  already  an  air  of  gaiety  in  the  room  that 
did  the  heart  good. 

I  poured  out  some  of  the  brandy. 

"  Colonel,"  said  I,  ''  I  am  a  young  man  and  a  private 
soldier.  I  have  not  been  long  in  this  room,  and  already 
I  have  shown  the  petulance  that  belongs  to  the  one 
character  and  the  ill  manners  that  you  may  look  for  in 
the  other.  Have  the  humanity  to  pass  these  slips  over, 
and  honour  me  so  far  as  to  accept  this  glass." 

149 


ST.  IVES 

"My  lad,"  says  he,  waking  up  and  blinking  at  me 
with  an  air  of  suspicion,  "  are  you  sure  you  can  afford 
it?" 

I  assured  him  I  could. 

"I  thank  you,  then:  I  am  very  cold."  He  took  the 
glass  out,  and  a  little  colour  came  in  his  face.  "  I  thank 
you  again,"  said  he.     "  It  goes  to  the  heart." 

The  major,  when  I  motioned  him  to  help  himself,  did 
so  with  a  good  deal  of  liberality;  continued  to  do  so  for 
the  rest  of  the  morning,  now  with  some  sort  of  apology, 
now  with  none  at  all ;  and  the  bottle  began  to  look  fool- 
ish before  dinner  was  served.  It  was  such  a  meal  as  he 
had  himself  predicted:  beef,  greens,  potatoes,  mustard 
in  a  teacup,  and  beer  in  a  brown  jug  that  was  all  over 
hounds,  horses,  and  hunters,  with  a  fox  at  the  far  end 
and  a  gigantic  John  Bull— for  all  the  world  like  Fenn— 
sitting  in  the  midst  in  a  bob-wig  and  smoking  tobacco. 
The  beer  was  a  good  brew,  but  not  good  enough  for  the 
major;  he  laced  it  with  brandy— for  his  cold,  he  said; 
and  in  this  curative  design  the  remainder  of  the  bottle 
ebbed  away.  He  called  my  attention  repeatedly  to  the 
circumstance;  helped  me  pointedly  to  the  dregs,  threw 
the  bottle  in  the  air  and  played  tricks  with  it;  and  at  last, 
having  exhausted  his  ingenuity,  and  seeing  me  remain 
quite  blind  to  every  hint,  he  ordered  and  paid  for  another 
himself. 

As  for  the  colonel,  he  ate  nothing,  sat  sunk  in  a  muse, 
and  only  awoke  occasionally  to  a  sense  of  where  he  was, 
and  what  he  was  supposed  to  be  doing.  On  each  of 
these  occasions  he  showed  a  gratitude  and  kind  courtesy 
that  endeared  him  to  me  beyond  expression.  "  Champ- 
divers,  my  lad,  your  health!"  he  would  say.     "The 

150 


I  MEET  TWO   OF  MY  COUNTRYMEN 

major  and  I  had  a  very  arduous  march  last  night,  and  I 
positively  thought  I  should  have  eaten  nothing,  but  your 
fortunate  idea  of  the  brandy  has  made  quite  a  new  man 
of  me— quite  a  new  man."  And  he  would  fall  to  with 
a  great  air  of  heartiness,  cut  himself  a  mouthful,  and 
before  he  had  swallowed  it,  would  have  forgotten  his 
dinner,  his  company,  the  place  where  he  then  was,  and 
the  escape  he  was  engaged  on,  and  become  absorbed  in 
the  vision  of  a  sick-room  and  a  dying  girl  in  France. 
The  pathos  of  this  continual  preoccupation,  in  a  man  so 
old,  sick,  and  overweary,  and  whom  I  looked  upon  as 
a  mere  bundle  of  dying  bones  and  death-pains,  put  me 
wholly  from  my  victuals :  it  seemed  there  was  an  ele- 
ment of  sin,  a  kind  of  rude  bravado  of  youth,  in  the 
mere  relishing  of  food  at  the  same  table  with  this  tragic 
father;  and  though  I  was  well  enough  used  to  the  coarse, 
plain  diet  of  the  English,  I  ate  scarce  more  than  himself. 
Dinner  was  hardly  over  before  he  succumbed  to  a  le- 
thargic sleep;  lying  on  one  of  the  mattresses  with  his 
limbs  relaxed,  and  his  breath  seemingly  suspended— the 
very  image  of  dissolution. 

This  left  the  major  and  myself  alone  at  the  table. 
You  must  not  suppose  our  tete-a-tete  was  long,  but  it 
was  a  lively  period  while  it  lasted.  He  drank  like  a  fish 
or  an  Englishman;  shouted,  beat  the  table,  roared  out 
songs,  quarrelled,  made  it  up  again,  and  at  last  tried  to 
throw  the  dinner-plates  through  the  window,  a  feat  of 
which  he  was  at  that  time  quite  incapable.  For  a  party 
of  fugitives,  condemned  to  the  most  rigorous  discretion, 
there  was  never  seen  so  noisy  a  carnival;  and  through 
it  all  the  colonel  continued  to  sleep  like  a  child.  Seeing 
the  major  so  well  advanced,  and  no  retreat  possible,  I 

151 


ST.  IVES 

made  a  fair  wind  of  a  foul  one,  keeping  his  glass  full, 
pushing  him  with  toasts;  and  sooner  than  I  could  have 
dared  to  hope,  he  became  drowsy  and  incoherent.  With 
the  wrong-headedness  of  all  such  sots,  he  would  not  be 
persuaded  to  lie  down  upon  one  of  the  mattresses  until 
I  had  stretched  myself  upon  another.  But  the  comedy 
was  soon  over;  soon  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just,  and 
snored  like  a  military  music;  and  I  might  get  up  again 
and  face  (as  best  I  could)  the  excessive  tedium  of  the 
afternoon. 

I  had  passed  the  night  before  in  a  good  bed;  I  was 
denied  the  resource  of  slumber;  and  there  was  nothing 
open  for  me  but  to  pace  the  apartment,  maintain  the  fire, 
and  brood  on  my  position.  I  compared  yesterday  and 
to-day— the  safety,  comfort,  jollity,  open-air  exercise, 
and  pleasant  roadside  inns  of  the  one,  with  the  tedium, 
anxiety,  and  discomfort  of  the  other.  I  remembered 
that  I  was  in  the  hands  of  Fenn,  who  could  not  be  more 
false— though  he  might  be  more  vindictive— than  I 
fancied  him.  I  looked  forward  to  nights  of  pitching  in 
the  covered  cart,  and  days  of  monotony  in  I  knew  not 
what  hiding-places ;  and  my  heart  failed  me,  and  I  was 
in  two  minds  whether  to  slink  off  ere  it  was  too  late,  and 
return  to  my  former  solitary  way  of  travel.  But  the 
colonel  stood  in  the  path.  I  had  not  seen  much  of 
him;  but  already  I  judged  him  a  man  of  a  childlike 
nature— with  that  sort  of  innocence  and  courtesy  that, 
I  think,  is  only  to  be  found  in  old  soldiers  or  old  priests 
—and  broken  with  years  and  sorrow.  I  could  not  turn 
my  back  on  his  distress ;  could  not  leave  him  alone  with 
the  selfish  trooper  who  snored  on  the  next  mattress. 
'* Champdivers,  my  lad,  your  health!"  said  a  voice  in 

152' 


I  MEET  TWO  OF  MY  COUNTRYMEN 

my  ear,  and  stopped  me— and  there  are  few  things  I  am 
more  glad  of  in  the  retrospect  than  that  it  did. 

It  must  have  been  about  four  in  the  afternoon— at 
least  the  rain  had  taken  off,  and  the  sun  was  setting  with 
some  wintry  pomp— when  the  current  of  my  reflections 
was  effectually  changed  by  the  arrival  of  two  visitors  in 
a  gig.  They  were  farmers  of  the  neighbourhood,  I  sup- 
pose—big, burly  fellows  in  greatcoats  and  top-boots, 
mightily  flushed  with  liquor  when  they  arrived,  and  be- 
fore they  left,  inimitably  drunk.  They  stayed  long  in 
the  kitchen  with  Burchell,  drinking,  shouting,  singing, 
and  keeping  it  up ;  and  the  sound  of  their  merry  min- 
strelsy kept  me  a  kind  of  company.  If  it  was  scarce 
tuneful,  it  was  at  least  more  so  than  the  bestial  snoring 
of  the  major  on  the  mattress.  The  night  fell,  and  the 
shine  of  the  fire  brightened  and  blinked  on  the  panelled 
wall.  Our  illuminated  windows  must  have  been  visible 
not  only  from  the  back  lane  of  which  Fenn  had  spoken, 
but  from  the  court  where  the  farmers'  gig  awaited  them. 
When  they  should  come  forth,  they  must  infallibly  per- 
ceive the  chamber  to  be  tenanted;  and  suppose  them  to 
remark  upon  the  circumstance,  it  became  a  question 
whether  Fenn  was  honest  enough  to  wish  to  protect  us, 
or  would  have  sense  enough  left,  after  his  long  potations, 
to  put  their  inquiries  by.  In  the  far  end  of  the  fire-lit 
room  lay  my  companions,  the  one  silent,  the  other 
clamorously  noisy,  the  images  of  death  and  drunken- 
ness. Little  wonder  if  I  were  tempted  to  join  in  the 
choruses  below,  and  sometimes  could  hardly  refrain 
from  laughter,  and  sometimes,  I  believe,  from  tears— so 
unmitigated  was  the  tedium,  so  cruel  the  suspense,  of 
this  period. 

«53 


ST.  IVES 

At  last,  about  six  at  night,  I  should  fancy,  the  noisy 
minstrels  appeared  in  the  court,  headed  by  Fenn  with 
a  lantern,  and  knocking  together  as  they  came.  The 
visitors  clambered  noisily  into  the  gig,  one  of  them 
shook  the  reins,  and  they  were  snatched  out  of  sight 
and  hearing  with  a  suddenness  that  partook  of  the 
nature  of  prodigy.  I  am  well  aware  there  is  a  Provi- 
dence for  drunken  men,  that  holds  the  reins  for  them 
and  presides  over  their  troubles ;  doubtless  he  had  his 
work  cut  out  for  him  with  this  particular  gigful!  Fenn 
rescued  his  toes  with  an  ejaculation  from  under  the 
departing  wheels,  and  turned  at  once  with  uncertain 
steps  and  devious  lantern  to  the  far  end  of  the  court. 
There,  through  the  open  doors  of  a  coach-house,  the 
shock-headed  lad  was  already  to  be  seen  drawing  forth 
the  covered  cart.  If  I  wished  any  private  talk  with  our 
host,  it  must  be  now  or  never. 

Accordingly  I  groped  my  way  down-stairs,  and  came 
to  him  as  he  looked  on  at  and  lighted  the  harnessing  of 
the  horses. 

"The  hour  approaches  when  we  have  to  part,"  said 
I ;  "  and  I  shall  be  obliged  if  you  will  tell  your  servant 
to  drop  me  at  the  nearest  point  for  Dunstable.  I  am 
determined  to  go  so  far  with  our  friends,  Colonel  X  and 
Major  Y,  but  my  business  is  peremptory,  and  it  takes 
me  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Dunstable." 

Orders  were  given,  to  my  satisfaction,  with  an  obse- 
quiousness that  seemed  only  inflamed  by  his  potations. 


154 


CHAPTER  XIV 

TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART 

My  companions  were  aroused  with  difficulty:  the 
colonel,  poor  old  gentleman,  to  a  sort  of  permanent 
dream,  in  which  you  could  say  of  him  only  that  he  was 
very  deaf  and  anxiously  polite;  the  major  still  maudlin 
drunk.  We  had  a  dish  of  tea  by  the  fireside,  and  then 
issued  like  criminals  into  the  scathing  cold  of  the  night. 
For  the  weather  had  in  the  meantime  changed.  Upon 
the  cessation  of  the  rain,  a  strict  frost  had  succeeded. 
The  moon,  being  young,  was  already  near  the  zenith 
when  we  started,  glittered  everywhere  on  sheets  of  ice, 
and  sparkled  in  ten  thousand  icicles.  A  more  unprom- 
ising night  for  a  journey  it  was  hard  to  conceive.  But 
in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  the  horses  had  been  well 
roughed;  and  King  (for  such  was  the  name  of  the  shock- 
headed  lad)  was  very  positive  that  he  could  drive  us 
without  misadventure.  He  was  as  good  as  his  word ; 
indeed,  despite  a  gawky  air,  he  was  simply  invaluable 
in  his  present  employment,  showing  marked  sagacity  in 
all  that  concerned  the  care  of  horses,  and  guiding  us  by 
one  short  cut  after  another  for  days,  and  without  a  fault. 

The  interior  of  that  engine  of  torture,  the  covered  cart, 
was  fitted  with  a  bench,  on  which  we  took  our  places ; 

155 


ST.  IVES 

the  door  was  shut;  in  a  moment,  the  night  closed  upon 
us  solid  and  stifling;  and  we  felt  that  we  were  being 
driven  carefully  out  of  the  courtyard.  Careful  was  the 
word  all  night,  and  it  was  an  alleviation  of  our  miseries 
that  we  did  not  often  enjoy.  In  general,  as  we  were 
driven  the  better  part  of  the  night  and  day,  often  at  a 
pretty  quick  pace  and  always  through  a  labyrinth  of  the 
most  infamous  country  lanes  and  by-roads,  we  were  so 
bruised  upon  the  bench,  so  dashed  against  the  top  and 
sides  of  the  cart,  that  we  reached  the  end  of  a  stage 
in  truly  pitiable  case,  sometimes  flung  ourselves  down 
without  the  formality  of  eating,  made  but  one  sleep  of 
it  until  the  hour  of  departure  returned,  and  were  only 
properly  awakened  by  the  first  jolt  of  the  renewed 
journey.  There  were  interruptions,  at  times,  that  we 
hailed  as  alleviations.  At  times  the  cart  was  bogged, 
once  it  was  upset,  and  we  must  alight  and  lend  the 
driver  the  assistance  of  our  arms ;  at  times,  too  (as  on 
the  occasion  when  I  had  first  encountered  it),  the  horses 
gave  out,  and  we  had  to  trail  alongside  in  mud  or  frost 
until  the  first  peep  of  daylight,  or  the  approach  to  a 
hamlet  or  a  highroad,  bade  us  disappear  like  ghosts 
into  our  prison. 

The  main  roads  of  England  are  incomparable  for  ex- 
cellence, of  a  beautiful  smoothness,  very  ingeniously 
laid  down,  and  so  well  kept  that  in  most  weathers  you 
could  take  your  dinner  off  any  part  of  them  without  dis- 
taste. On  them,  to  the  note  of  the  bugle,  the  mail  did 
its  sixty  miles  a  day;  innumerable  chaises  whisked  after 
the  bobbing  postboys ;  or  some  young  blood  would  flit 
by  in  a  curricle  and  tandem,  to  the  vast  delight  and 
danger  of  the  lieges.    On  them,  the  slow-pacing  wagons 

156 


TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART 

made  a  music  of  bells,  and  all  day  long  the  travellers  on 
horseback  and  the  travellers  on  foot  (like  happy  Mr.  St. 
Ives  so  little  a  while  before!)  kept  coming  and  going, 
and  baiting  and  gaping  at  each  other,  as  though  a  fair 
were  due,  and  they  were  gathering  to  it  from  all  Eng- 
land. No,  nowhere  in  the  world  is  travel  so  great  a 
pleasure  as  in  that  country.  But  unhappily  our  one 
need  was  to  be  secret;  and  all  this  rapid  and  animated 
picture  of  the  road  swept  quite  apart  from  us,  as  we 
lumbered  up  hill  and  down  dale,  under  hedge  and  over 
stone,  among  circuitous  byways.  Only  twice  did  I  re- 
ceive, as  it  were,  a  whiflf  of  the  highway.  The  first 
reached  my  ears  alone.  I  might  have  been  anywhere. 
1  only  knew  I  was  walking  in  the  dark  night  and  among 
ruts,  when  I  heard  very  far  off,  over  the  silent  country 
that  surrounded  us,  the  guard's  horn  wailing  its  signal 
to  the  next  post-house  for  a  change  of  horses.  It  was 
like  the  voice  of  the  day  heard  in  darkness,  a  voice  of 
the  world  heard  in  prison,  the  note  of  a  cock  crowing 
in  the  mid-seas— in  short,  I  cannot  tell  you  what  it  was 
like,  you  will  have  to  fancy  for  yourself— but  I  could 
have  wept  to  hear  it.  Once  we  were  belated :  the  cattle 
could  hardly  crawl,  the  day  was  at  hand,  it  was  a  nip- 
ping, rigorous  morning,  King  was  lashing  his  horses,  I 
was  giving  an  arm  to  the  old  colonel,  and  the  major 
was  coughing  in  our  rear.  I  must  suppose  that  King 
was  a  thought  careless,  being  nearly  in  desperation 
about  his  team,  and,  in  spite  of  the  cold  morning,  breath- 
ing hot  with  his  exertions.  We  came,  at  last,  a  little 
before  sunrise  to  the  summit  of  a  hill,  and  saw  the  high- 
road passing  at  right  angles  through  an  open  country  of 
meadows  and  hedgerow  pollards ;  and  not  only  the  York 

•57 


ST.  IVES 

mail,  speeding  smoothly  at  the  gallop  of  the  four  horses, 
but  a  post-chaise  besides,  with  the  postboy  titupping 
briskly,  and  the  traveller  himself  putting  his  head  out  of 
the  window,  but  whether  to  breathe  the  dawn,  or  the 
better  to  observe  the  passage  of  the  mail,  I  do  not  know. 
So  that  we  enjoyed  for  an  instant  a  picture  of  free  life 
on  the  road,  in  its  most  luxurious  forms  of  despatch  and 
comfort.  And  thereafter,  with  a  poignant  feeling  of 
contrast  in  our  hearts,  we  must  mount  again  into  our 
wheeled  dungeon. 

We  came  to  our  stages  at  all  sorts  of  odd  hours,  and 
they  were  in  all  kinds  of  odd  places.  I  may  say  at  once 
that  my  first  experience  was  my  best.  Nowhere  again 
were  we  so  well  entertained  as  at  Burchell  Fenn's.  And 
this,  I  suppose,  was  natural,  and  indeed  inevitable,  in 
so  long  and  secret  a  journey.  The  first  stop,  we  lay  six 
hours  in  a  barn  standing  by  itself  in  a  poor,  marshy 
orchard,  and  packed  with  hay;  to  make  it  more  attrac- 
tive, we  were  told  it  had  been  the  scene  of  an  abomi- 
nable murder,  and  was  now  haunted.  But  the  day  was 
beginning  to  break,  and  our  fatigue  was  too  extreme  for 
visionary  terrors.  The  second  or  third,  we  alighted  on 
a  barren  heath  about  midnight,  built  a  fire  to  warm  us 
under  the  shelter  of  some  thorns,  supped  like  beggars 
on  bread  and  a  piece  of  cold  bacon,  and  slept  like  gip- 
sies with  our  feet  to  the  fire.  In  the  meanwhile.  King 
was  gone  with  the  cart,  I  know  not  where,  to  get  a 
change  of  horses,  and  it  was  late  in  the  dark  morning 
when  he  returned  and  we  were  able  to  resume  our  jour- 
ney. In  the  middle  of  another  night,  we  came  to  a  stop 
by  an  ancient,  whitewashed  cottage  of  two  stories;  a 
privet  hedge  surrounded  it;  the  frosty  moon  shohe 

158 


TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART 

blankly  on  the  upper  windows;  but  through  those  of 
the  kitchen  the  firelight  was  seen  glinting  on  the  roof 
and  reflected  from  the  dishes  on  the  wall.  Here,  after 
much  hammering  on  the  door,  King  managed  to  arouse 
an  old  crone  from  the  chimney-corner  chair,  where  she 
had  been  dozing  in  the  watch ;  and  we  were  had  in,  and 
entertained  with  a  dish  of  hot  tea.  This  old  lady  was 
an  aunt  of  Burchell  Fenn's— and  an  unwilling  partner  in 
his  dangerous  trade.  Though  the  house  stood  solitary, 
and  the  hour  was  an  unlikely  one  for  any  passenger  upon 
the  road.  King  and  she  conversed  in  whispers  only. 
There  was  something  dismal,  something  of  the  sick- 
room, in  this  perpetual,  guarded  sibilation.  The  appre- 
hensions of  our  hostess  insensibly  communicated  them- 
selves to  every  one  present.  We  ate  like  mice  in  a  cat's 
ear;  if  one  of  us  jingled  a  teaspoon,  all  would  start; 
and  when  the  hour  came  to  take  the  road  again,  we 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  climbed  to  our  places 
in  the  covered  cart  with  a  positive  sense  of  escape.  The 
most  of  our  meals,  however,  were  taken  boldly  at 
hedgerow  ale-houses,  usually  at  untimely  hours  of  the 
day,  when  the  clients  were  in  the  field  or  the  farm-yard 
at  labour.  I  shall  have  to  tell  presently  of  our  last  ex- 
perience of  the  sort,  and  how  unfortunately  it  miscar- 
ried ;  but  as  that  was  the  signal  for  my  separation  from 
my  fellow-travellers,  I  must  first  finish  with  them. 

I  had  never  any  occasion  to  waver  in  my  first  judg- 
ment of  the  colonel.  The  old  gentleman  seemed  to 
me,  and  still  seems  in  the  retrospect,  the  salt  of  the 
earth.  I  had  occasion  to  see  him  in  the  extremes  of 
hardship,  hunger,  and  cold;  he  was  dying,  and  he 
looked  it ;  and  yet  I  cannot  remember  any  hasty,  harsh, 

^59 


ST.  IVES 

or  impatient  word  to  have  fallen  from  his  lips.  On  the 
contrary,  he  ever  showed  himself  careful  to  please;  and 
even  if  he  rambled  in  his  talk,  rambled  always  gently- 
like  a  humane,  half-witted  old  hero,  true  to  his  colours 
to  the  last.  I  would  not  dare  to  say  how  often  he 
awoke  suddenly  from  a  lethargy,  and  told  us  again,  as 
though  we  had  never  heard  it,  the  story  of  how  he  had 
earned  the  cross,  how  it  had  been  given  him  by  the  hand 
of  the  Emperor,  and  of  the  innocent— and,  indeed,  fool- 
ish—sayings of  his  daughter  when  he  returned  with  it 
on  his  bosom.  He  had  another  anecdote  which  he  was 
very  apt  to  give,  by  way  of  a  rebuke,  when  the  major 
wearied  us  beyond  endurance  with  dispraises  of  the 
English.  This  was  an  account  of  the  braves  gens  with 
whom  he  had  been  boarding.  True  enough,  he  was  a 
man  so  simple  and  grateful  by  nature,  that  the  most 
common  civilities  were  able  to  touch  him  to  the  heart, 
and  would  remain  written  in  his  memory;  but  from 
a  thousand  inconsiderable  but  conclusive  indications,  I 
gathered  that  this  family  had  really  loved  him,  and 
loaded  him  with  kindness.  They  made  a  tire  in  his 
bedroom,  which  the  sons  and  daughters  tended  with 
their  own  hands;  letters  from  France  were  looked  for 
with  scarce  more  eagerness  by  himself  than  by  these 
alien  sympathisers;  when  they  came,  he  would  read 
them  aloud  in  the  parlour  to  the  assembled  family,  trans- 
lating as  he  went.  The  colonel's  English  was  elemen- 
tary ;  his  daughter  not  in  the  least  likely  to  be  an  amusing 
correspondent;  and,  as  I  conceived  these  scenes  in  the 
parlour,  I  felt  sure  the  interest  centred  in  the  colonel 
himself,  and  I  thought  I  could  feel  in  my  own  heart  that 
mixture  of  the  ridiculous  and  the  pathetic,  the  contest 

160 


TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART 

of  tears  and  laughter,  which  must  have  shaken  the 
bosoms  of  the  family.  Their  kindness  had  continued 
till  the  end.  It  appears  they  were  privy  to  his  flight,  the 
camlet  cloak  had  been  lined  expressly  for  him,  and  he 
was  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from  the  daughter  of  the  house 
to  his  own  daughter  in  Paris.  The  last  evening,  when 
the  time  came  to  say  good  night,  it  was  tacitly  known 
to  all  that  they  were  to  look  upon  his  face  no  more.  He 
rose,  pleading  fatigue,  and  turned  to  the  daughter,  who 
had  been  his  chief  ally:  *'  You  will  permit  me,  my  dear 
—to  an  old  and  very  unhappy  soldier— and  may  God 
bless  you  for  your  goodness !  "  The  girl  threw  her  arms 
about  his  neck  and  sobbed  upon  his  bosom ;  the  lady  of 
the  house  burst  into  tears ;  "  et  je  vous  le  jure,  le  pere  se 
mouchait!"  quoth  the  colonel,  twisting  his  moustaches 
with  a  cavalry  air,  and  at  the  same  time  blinking  the 
water  from  his  eyes  at  the  mere  recollection. 

It  was  a  good  thought  to  me  that  he  had  found  these 
friends  in  captivity;  that  he  had  started  on  this  fatal 
journey  from  so  cordial  a  farewell.  He  had  broken  his 
parole  for  his  daughter:  that  he  should  ever  live  to  reach 
her  sick-bed,  that  he  could  continue  to  endure  to  an  end 
the  hardships,  the  crushing  fatigue,  the  savage  cold,  oi 
our  pilgrimage,  I  had  early  ceased  to  hope.  I  did  fo? 
him  what  1  was  able,— nursed  him,  kept  him  covered, 
watched  over  his  slumbers,  sometimes  held  him  in  my 
arms  at  the  rough  places  of  the  road.  "  Champdivers," 
he  once  said,  "you  are  like  a  son  to  me— like  a  son." 
It  is  good  to  remember,  though  at  the  time  it  put  me  on 
the  rack.  All  was  to  no  purpose.  Fast  as  we  were 
travelling  towards  France,  he  was  travelling  faster  still 
to  another  destination.    Daily  he'grew  weaker  and  more 

i6i 


ST.  IVES 

indifferent.  An  old  rustic  accent  of  Lower  Normandy 
reappeared  in  his  speech,  from  which  it  had  long  been 
banished,  and  grew  stronger;  old  words  of  the  patois ^ 
too:  outstrebamy  matrassS,  and  others,  the  sense  of 
which  we  were  sometimes  unable  to  guess.  On  the 
very  last  day  he  began  again  his  eternal  story  of  the 
cross  and  the  Emperor.  The  major,  who  was  particu- 
larly ill,  or  at  least  particularly  cross,  uttered  some  angry 
words  of  protest.  "  Pardonnei-mot,  monsieur  le  com- 
mandant,  mats  c* est  pour  monsieur y'*  said  the  colonel: 
**  monsieur  has  not  yet  heard  the  circumstance,  and  is 
good  enough  to  feel  an  interest."  Presently,  after, 
however,  he  began  to  lose  the  thread  of  his  narrative; 
and  at  last :  "  Qu^  quefai  ?  Je  m'embrouille  !  "  says  he. 
"  Suffit:  s'm'a  la  donne,  et  Berthe  en  ttait  Men  contented 
It  struck  me  as  the  falling  of  the  curtain  or  the  closing 
of  the  sepulchre  doors. 

Sure  enough,  in  but  a  little  while  after,  he  fell  into  a 
sleep  as  gentle  as  an  infant's,  which  insensibly  changed 
into  the  sleep  of  death.  I  had  my  arm  about  his  body 
at  the  time  and  remarked  nothing,  unless  it  were  that 
he  once  stretched  himself  a  little,  so  kindly  the  end  came 
to  that  disastrous  life.  It  was  only  at  our  evening  halt 
that  the  major  and  I  discovered  we  were  travelling  alone 
with  the  poor  clay.  That  night  we  stole  a  spade  from 
a  field— I  think  near  Market  Bosworth— and  a  little 
farther  on,  in  a  wood  of  young  oak-trees  and  by  the 
light  of  King's  lantern,  we  buried  the  old  soldier  of  the 
Empire  with  both  prayers  and  tears. 

We  had  needs  invent  Heaven  if  it  had  not  been  re- 
vealed to  us ;  there  are  some  things  that  fall  so  bitterly 
ill  on  this  side  Time  I    As  for  the  major,  I  have  long  since 

i6a 


TRAVELS  OF  THE  COVERED  CART 

forgiven  him.  He  broke  the  news  to  the  poor  coIoneFs 
daughter;  I  am  told  he  did  it  kindly;  and  sure,  nobody 
could  have  done  it  without  tears !  His  share  of  Purga- 
tory will  be  brief;  and  in  this  world,  as  I  could  not  very 
well  praise  him,  I  have  suppressed  his  name.  The  colo- 
nel's also,  for  the  sake  of  his  parole.    RequiescanU 


i6^ 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE   ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

I  HAVE  mentioned  our  usual  course,  which  was  to  eat 
in  inconsiderable  wayside  hostelries,  known  to  King. 
It  was  a  dangerous  business :  we  went  daily  under  fire 
to  satisfy  our  appetite,  and  put  our  head  in  the  lion's 
mouth  for  a  piece  of  bread.  Sometimes,  to  minimise 
the  risk,  we  would  all  dismount  before  we  came  in  view 
of  the  house,  straggle  in  severally,  and  give  what  orders 
we  pleased,  like  disconnected  strangers.  In  like  man- 
ner we  departed,  to  find  the  cart  at  an  appointed  place, 
some  half  a  mile  beyond.  The  colonel  and  the  major 
had  each  a  word  or  two  of  English, —God  help  their 
pronunciation!  But  they  did  well  enough  to  order  a 
rasher  and  a  pot  or  call  a  reckoning;  and,  to  say  truth, 
these  country  folks  did  not  give  themselves  the  pains, 
and  had  scarce  the  knowledge,  to  be  critical. 

About  nine  or  ten  at  night  the  pains  of  hunger  and 
cold  drove  us  to  an  ale-house  in  the  flats  of  Bedfordshire, 
not  far  from  Bedford  itself.  In  the  inn  kitchen  was  a 
long,  lean,  characteristic-looking  fellow  of  perhaps  forty, 
dressed  in  black.  He  sat  on  a  settle  by  the  fireside, 
smoking  a  long  pipe,  such  as  they  call  a  yard  of  clay. 
His  hat  and  wig  were  hanged  upon  the  knob  behind 

it)4 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

him,  his  head  as  bald  as  a  bladder  of  lard,  and  his  ex- 
pression very  shrewd,  cantankerous,  and  inquisitive. 
He  seemed  to  value  himself  above  his  company,  to  give 
himself  the  airs  of  a  man  of  the  world  among  that  rustic 
herd;  which  was  often  no  more  than  his  due;  being, 
as  I  afterwards  discovered,  an  attorney's  clerk.  I  took 
upon  myself  the  more  ungrateful  part  of  arriving  last; 
and  by  the  time  I  entered  on  the  scene  the  major  was 
already  served  at  a  side  table.  Some  general  conversa- 
tion must  have  passed,  and  I  smelled  danger  in  the  air. 
The  major  looked  flustered,  the  attorney's  clerk  tri- 
umphant, and  the  three  or  four  peasants  in  smock- 
frocks  (who  sat  about  the  fire  to  play  chorus)  had  let 
their  pipes  go  out. 

"  Give  you  good  evening,  sir!  "  said  the  attorney's 
clerk  to  me. 

"The  same  to  you,  sir,"  said  I. 

"I  think  this  one  will  do,"  quoth  the  clerk  to  the 
yokels  with  a  wink;  and  then,  as  soon  as  I  had  given 
my  order,  "  Pray,  sir,  whither  are  you  bound  ? "  he 
added. 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  "  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  speak  either 
of  their  business  or  their  destination  in  houses  of  public 
entertainment." 

"A  good  answer,"  said  he,  "and  an  excellent  princi- 
ple.    Sir,  do  you  speak  French  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  sir,"  said  I.  "  A  little  Spanish  at  your  ser- 
vice." 

"  But  you  know  the  French  accent,  perhaps  ? "  said 
the  clerk. 

"Well  do  I  do  that!  "  said  I.  "The  French  accent? 
Why,  I  believe  I  can  tell  a  Frenchman  in  ten  words." 

165 


ST.  IVES 

"  Here  is  a  puzzle  for  you,  then !  "  he  said.  "  I  have 
no  material  doubt  myself,  but  some  of  these  gentlemen 
are  more  backward.  The  lack  of  education,  you  know. 
1  make  bold  to  say  that  a  man  cannot  walk,  cannot  hear, 
and  cannot  see,  without  the  blessings  of  education." 

He  turned  to  the  major,  whose  food  plainly  stuck  in 
his  throat. 

"Now,  sir,"  pursued  the  clerk,  "let  me  have  the 
pleasure  to  hear  your  voice  again.  Where  are  you  going, 
did  you  say  ?  " 

"Sare,  I  am  go— ing  to  Lon— don,"  said  the  major. 

I  could  have  flung  my  plate  at  him  to  be  such  an  ass, 
and  to  have  so  little  a  gift  of  languages  where  that  was 
the  essential. 

"  What  think  ye  of  that  ?  "  said  the  clerk.  "  Is  that 
French  enough  ?  " 

"  Good  God!  "  cried  I,  leaping  up  like  one  who  should 
suddenly  perceive  an  acquaintance,  "is  this  you,  Mr. 
Dubois  ?  Why,  who  would  have  dreamed  of  encoun- 
tering you  so  far  from  home  ? "  As  I  spoke,  I  shook 
hands  with  the  major  heartily;  and  turning  to  our  tor- 
mentor, "  O,  sir,  you  may  be  perfectly  reassured!  This 
is  a  very  honest  fellow,  a  late  neighbour  of  mine  in  the 
city  of  Carlisle." 

I  thought  the  attorney  looked  put  out;  I  knew  little 
the  man ! 

"  But  he  is  French,"  said  he,  "  for  all  that  ?" 

"Ay,  to  be  sure!  "  said  I.  "A  Frenchman  of  the 
emigration !  None  of  your  Buonaparte  lot.  I  will  war- 
rant his  views  of  politics  to  be  as  sound  as  your  own." 

"  What  is  a  little  strange,"  said  the  clerk  quietly,  "is 
that  Mr.  Dubois  should  deny  it." 

166 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

I  got  it  fair  in  the  face,  and  took  it  smiling;  but  the 
shock  was  rude,  and  in  the  course  of  the  next  words  I 
contrived  to  do  what  I  have  rarely  done  and  make  a  slip 
in  my  English.  I  kept  my  liberty  and  life  by  my  pro- 
ficiency all  these  months,  and  for  once  that  I  failed,  it 
is  not  to  be  supposed  that  I  would  make  a  public  exhi^ 
bition  of  the  details.  Enough,  that  it  was  a  very  little 
error,  and  one  that  might  have  passed  ninety-nine  times 
in  a  hundred.  But  my  limb  of  the  law  was  as  swift  to 
pick  it  up  as  though  he  had  been  by  trade  a  master  of 
languages. 

"Aha!  "  cries  he;  "and  you  are  French,  too!  Your 
tongue  bewrays  you.  Two  Frenchmen  coming  into  an 
ale-house,  severally  and  accidentally,  not  knowing  each 
other,  at  ten  of  the  clock  at  night,  in  the  middle  of  Bed- 
fordshire ?  No,  sir,  that  shall  not  pass !  You  are  all 
prisoners  escaping,  if  you  are  nothing  worse.  Consider 
yourselves  under  arrest.  I  have  to  trouble  you  for  your 
papers." 

"  Where  is  your  warrant,  if  you  come  to  that  ?  "  said 
I.  "  My  papers !  A  likely  thing  that  I  would  show  my 
papers  on  the  ipse  dixit  of  an  unknown  fellow  in  a 
hedge  ale-house!  " 

"  Would  you  resist  the  law  ?  '*  says  he. 

"  Not  the  law,  sir,"  said  I.  "  I  hope  I  am  too  good  a 
subject  for  that.  But  for  a  nameless  fellow  with  a  bald 
head  and  a  pair  of  gingham  small-clothes,  why,  cer- 
tainly !  Tis  my  birthright  as  an  Englishman.  Where's 
Magna  Charta,  else.^" 

"  We  will  see  about  that,"  says  he;  and  then,  address- 
ing the  assistants,  "  where  does  the  constable  live  ?  " 

"Lord  love  you,  sir!"  cried  the  landlord,  "what  are 
167 


ST.  IVES 

you  thinking  of?  The  constable  at  past  ten  at  night! 
Why,  he's  abed  and  asleep,  and  good  and  drunk  two 
hours  agone!  " 

**  Ah,  that  a*  be!  "  came  in  chorus  from  the  yokels. 

The  attorney's  clerk  was  put  to  a  stand.  He  could 
not  think  of  force ;  there  was  little  sign  of  martial  ardour 
about  the  landlord,  and  the  peasants  were  indifferent— 
they  only  listened,  and  gaped,  and  now  scratched  a  head 
and  now  would  get  a  light  to  their  pipes  from  the  em- 
bers on  the  hearth.  On  the  other  hand,  the  major  and 
I  put  a  bold  front  on  the  business  and  defied  him,  not 
without  some  ground  of  law.  In  this  state  of  manners 
he  proposed  I  should  go  along  with  him  to  one  Squire 
Merton,  a  great  man  of  the  neighbourhood,  who  was  in 
the  commission  of  the  peace,  and  the  end  of  his  avenue 
but  three  lanes  away.  I  told  him  I  would  not  stir  a  foot 
for  him  if  it  were  to  save  his  soul.  Next  he  proposed 
I  should  stay  all  night  where  I  was,  and  the  constable 
could  see  to  my  affair  in  the  morning,  when  he  was 
sober.  I  replied  I  should  go  when  and  where  I  pleased ; 
that  we  were  lawful  travellers  in  the  fear  of  God  and  the 
king,  and  I  for  one  would  suffer  myself  to  be  stayed  by 
nobody.  At  the  same  time,  I  was  thinking  the  matter 
had  lasted  altogether  too  long,  and  I  determined  to  bring 
it  to  an  end  at  once. 

"See  here,"  said  I,  getting  up,  for  till  now  I  had  re- 
mained carelessly  seated,  "  there's  only  one  way  to  de- 
cide a  thing  like  this— only  one  way  that's  right  English 
—and  that's  man  to  man.  Take  off  your  coat,  sir,  and 
these  gentlemen  shall  see  fair  play." 

At  this  there  came  a  look  in  his  eye  that  I  could  not 
mistake.     His  education  had  been  neglected  in  one  es* 

168 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

sential  and  eminently  British  particular:  he  could  not 
box.  No  more  could  I,  you  may  say;  but  then  I  had 
the  more  impudence— and  I  had  made  the  proposal. 

"  He  says  I'm  no  Englishman,  but  the  proof  of  the 
pudding  is  the  eating  of  it,'*  I  continued.  And  here  I 
stripped  my  coat  and  fell  into  the  proper  attitude, 
which  was  just  about  all  I  knew  of  this  barbarian  art. 
"  Why,  sir,  you  seem  to  me  to  hang  back  a  little,"  said 
1.  "Come,  I'll  meet  you;  I'll  give  you  an  appetiser— 
though  hang  me  if  I  can  understand  the  man  that  wants 
any  enticement  to  hold  up  his  hands."  I  drew  a  bank 
note  out  of  my  fob  and  tossed  it  to  the  landlord. 
"  There  are  the  stakes,"  said  I.  "  I'll  fight  you  for  first 
blood,  since  you  seem  to  make  so  much  work  about  it. 
If  you  tap  my  claret  first,  there  are  five  guineas  for  you, 
and  I'll  go  with  you  to  any  squire  you  choose  to  men- 
tion. If  I  tap  yours,  you'll  perhaps  let  on  that  I'm  the 
better  man,  and  allow  me  to  go  about  my  lawful  busi- 
ness at  my  own  time  and  convenience,  by  God !  Is  that 
fair,  my  lads  ?  "  says  I,  appealing  to  the  company. 

"Ay,  ay, "  said  the  chorus  of  chaw-bacons ;  "  he  can't  say 
no  fairer  nor  that,  he  can't.     Take  thy  coat  off,  master!  " 

The  limb  of  the  law  was  now  on  the  wrong  side  of 
public  opinion,  and,  what  heartened  me  to  go  on,  the 
position  was  rapidly  changing  in  our  favour.  Already 
the  major  was  paying  his  shot  to  the  very  indifferent 
landlord,  and  I  could  see  the  white  face  of  King  at  the 
back  door,  making  signals  of  haste. 

"  Oho!  "  quoth  my  enemy,  "you  are  as  full  of  doubles 
as  a  fox,  are  you  not.^  But  I  see  through  you;  I  see 
through  and  through  you.  You  would  change  the 
venue,  would  you  ?  " 

169 


ST.  IVES 

"I  may  be  transparent,  sir,"  says  I,  "but  if  you'll  do 
me  the  favour  to  stand  up,  you'll  find  I  can  hit  damn 
hard." 

"  Which  is  a  point,  if  you  will  observe,  that  I  have 
never  called  in  question,"  said  he.  "Why,  you  igno- 
rant clowns,"  he  proceeded,  addressing  the  company, 
"  can't  you  see  the  fellow  is  gulling  you  before  your 
eyes  ?  Can't  you  see  that  he's  changed  the  point  upon 
me  ?  I  say  he's  a  French  prisoner,  and  he  answers  that 
he  can  box!  What  has  that  to  do  with  it?  I  would 
not  wonder  but  what  he  can  dance,  too— they're  all 
dancing-masters  over  there.  I  say,  and  I  stick  to  it,  that 
he's  a  Frenchy.  He  says  he  isn't.  Well,  then,  let  him 
out  with  his  papers,  if  he  has  them!  If  he  had,  would 
he  not  show  them  ?  If  he  had,  would  he  not  jump  at 
the  idea  of  going  to  Squire  Merton,  a  man  you  all  know  ? 
Now,  you're  all  plain,  straightforward  Bedfordshire  men, 
and  I  wouldn't  ask  a  better  lot  to  appeal  to.  You're  not 
the  kind  to  be  talked  over  with  any  French  gammon, 
and  he's  plenty  of  that.  But  let  me  tell  him,  he  can  take 
his  pigs  to  another  market;  they'll  never  do  here;  they'll 
never  go  down  in  Bedfordshire.  Why,  look  at  the  man ! 
Look  at  his  feet!  Has  anybody  got  a  foot  in  the  room 
like  that?  See  how  he  stands!  do  any  of  you  fellows 
stand  like  that  ?  Does  the  landlord,  there  ?  Why,  he 
has  Frenchman  wrote  all  over  him,  as  big  as  a  sign-post ! " 

This  was  all  very  well;  and  in  a  different  scene,  I 
might  even  have  been  gratified  by  his  remarks;  but  I 
saw  clearly,  if  I  were  to  allow  him  to  talk,  he  might 
turn  the  tables  on  me  altogether.  He  might  not  be 
much  of  a  hand  at  boxing;  but  I  was  much  mistaken, 
or  he  had  studied  forensic  eloquence  in  a  good  school. 

170 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

In  this  predicament,  I  could  think  of  nothing  more  in- 
genious than  to  burst  out  of  the  house,  under  the  pre- 
text of  an  ungovernable  rage.  It  was  certainly  not  very 
ingenious— it  was  elementary;  but  I  had  no  choice. 

"You  white-livered  dog!"  I  broke  out.  "Do  you 
dare  to  tell  me  you're  an  Englishman,  and  won't  fight  ? 
But  I'll  stand  no  more  of  this !  I  leave  this  place,  where 
I've  been  insulted!  Here!  what's  to  pay?  Pay  your- 
self!" I  went  on,  offering  the  landlord  a  handful  of  sil- 
ver, "and  give  me  back  my  bank  note!  " 

The  landlord,  following  his  usual  policy  of  obliging 
everybody,  offered  no  opposition  to  my  design.  The 
position  of  my  adversary  was  now  thoroughly  bad. 
He  had  lost  my  two  companions.  He  was  on  the  point 
of  losing  me  also.  There  was  plainly  no  hope  of  arous- 
ing the  company  to  help;  and,  watching  him  with  a 
corner  of  my  eye,  I  saw  him  hesitate  for  a  moment. 
The  next,  he  had  taken  down  his  hat  and  his  wig, 
which  was  of  black  horsehair;  and  I  saw  him  draw 
from  behind  the  settle  a  vast  hooded  greatcoat  and  a 
small  valise.  "The  devil!"  thought  I:  "is  the  rascal 
going  to  follow  me  ?  " 

I  was  scarce  clear  of  the  inn  before  the  limb  of  the  law 
was  at  my  heels.  I  saw  his  face  plain  in  the  moonlight; 
and  the  most  resolute  purpose  showed  in  it,  along  with 
an  unmoved  composure.  A  chill  went  over  me.  "  This 
is  no  common  adventure,"  thinks  I  to  myself.  "You 
have  got  hold  of  a  man  of  character,  St.  Ives !  A  bite- 
hard,  a  bulldog,  a  weasel  is  on  your  trail ;  and  how  are 
you  to  throw  him  off  ?  "  Who  was  he  ?  By  some  of 
his  expressions  I  judged  he  was  a  hanger-on  of  courts. 
But  in  what  character  had  he  followed  the  assizes  ?    As 

171 


ST.  IVES 

a  simple  spectator,  as  a  lawyer's  clerk,  as  a  criminal 
himself,  or— last  and  worst  supposition— as  a  Bow- 
street  "  runner  "  ? 

The  cart  would  wait  for  me,  perhaps,  half  a  mile  down 
our  onward  road,  which  I  was  already  following.  And 
I  told  myself  that  in  a  few  minutes'  walking.  Bow- 
street  "  runner  "  or  not,  I  should  have  him  at  my  mercy. 
And  then  reflection  came  to  me  in  time.  Of  all  things, 
one  was  out  of  the  question.  Upon  no  account  must 
this  obtrusive  fellow  see  the  cart.  Until  I  had  killed  or 
shook  him  off,  I  was  quite  divorced  from  my  compan- 
ions—alone, in  the  midst  of  England,  on  a  frosty  by- 
way leading  whither  I  knew  not,  with  a  sleuth-hound 
at  my  heels,  and  never  a  friend  but  the  holly-stick ! 

We  came  at  the  same  time  to  a  crossing  of  lanes. 
The  branch  to  the  left  was  overhung  with  trees,  deeply 
sunken  and  dark.  Not  a  ray  of  moonlight  penetrated 
its  recesses;  and  I  took  it  at  a  venture.  The  wretch 
followed  my  example  in  silence;  and  for  some  time  we 
crunched  together  over  frozen  pools  without  a  word. 
Then  he  found  his  voice,  with  a  chuckle. 

"This  is  not  the  way  to  Mr.  Merton's,"  said  he. 

"  No  ?  "  said  I.     "  It  is  mine,  however." 

"And  therefore  mine,"  said  he. 

Again  we  fell  silent;  and  we  may  thus  have  covered 
half  a  mile  before  the  lane,  taking  a  sudden  turn, 
brought  us  forth  again  into  the  moonshine.  With  his 
hooded  greatcoat  on  his  back,  his  valise  in  his  hand, 
his  black  wig  adjusted,  and  footing  it  on  the  ice  with  a 
sort  of  sober  doggedness  of  manner,  my  enemy  was 
changed  almost  beyond  recognition :  changed  in  every- 
thing but  a  certain  dry,  polemical,  pedantic  air,  that 

172 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

spoke  of  a  sedentary  occupation  and  high  stools.  I  ob- 
served, too,  that  his  valise  was  heavy ;  and,  putting  this 
and  that  together,  hit  upon  a  plan. 

"A  seasonable  night,  sir,"  said  I.  "What  do  you 
say  to  a  bit  of  running  ?    The  frost  has  me  by  the  toes." 

"With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,"  says  he. 

His  voice  seemed  well  assured,  which  pleased  me  lit- 
tle. However,  there  was  nothing  else  to  try,  except  vio- 
lence, for  which  it  would  always  be  too  soon.  I  took 
to  my  heels,  accordingly,  he  after  me;  and  for  some 
time  the  slapping  of  our  feet  on  the  hard  road  might 
have  been  heard  a  mile  away.  He  had  started  a  pace 
behind  me,  and  he  finished  in  the  same  position.  For 
all  his  extra  years  and  the  weight  of  his  valise,  he  had 
not  lost  a  hair's-breadth.  The  devil  might  race  him  for 
me— I  had  enough  of  it! 

And,  besides,  to  run  so  fast  was  contrary  to  my  in- 
terests. We  could  not  run  long  without  arriving  some- 
where. At  any  moment  we  might  turn  a  corner  and 
find  ourselves  at  the  lodge-gate  of  some  Squire  Merton, 
in  the  midst  of  a  village  whose  constable  was  sober,  or 
in  the  hands  of  a  patrol.  There  was  no  help  for  it— I 
must  finish  with  him  on  the  spot,  as  long  as  it  was  pos- 
sible. I  looked  about  me,  and  the  place  seemed  suitable : 
never  a  light,  never  a  house— nothing  but  stubble-fields, 
fallows,  and  a  few  stunted  trees.  I  stopped  and  eyed 
him  in  the  moonlight  with  an  angry  stare. 

"Enough  of  this  foolery!"  said  I. 

He  had  turned,  and  now  faced  me  full,  very  pale,  but 
with  no  sign  of  shrinking. 

"  I  am  quite  of  your  opinion,"  said  he.  "You  have 
tried  me  at  the  running;  you  can  try  me  next  at  the  high 

173 


ST.  IVES 

jump.     It  will  be  all  the  same.     It  must  end  the  one 
way." 

I  made  my  holly  whistle  about  my  head. 

*'  I  believe  you  know  what  way!  "  said  1.  "  We  are 
alone,  it  is  night,  and  1  am  wholly  resolved.  Are  you 
not  frightened  ?  " 

"No,"  he  said,  "not  in  the  smallest.  I  do  not  box, 
sir;  but  I  am  not  a  coward,  as  you  may  have  supposed. 
Perhaps  it  will  simplify  our  relations  if  I  tell  you  at  the 
outset  that  1  walk  armed." 

Quick  as  lightning  I  made  a  feint  at  his  head;  as 
quickly  he  gave  ground,  and  at  the  same  time  I  saw  a 
pistol  glitter  in  his  hand. 

"No  more  of  that,  Mr.  French-Prisoner!  "  he  said. 
""  It  will  do  me  no  good  to  have  your  death  at  my  door." 

"  Faith,  nor  me  either!  "  said  1 ;  and  1  lowered  my  stick 
and  considered  the  man,  not  without  a  twinkle  of  ad- 
miration. "You  see,"  I  said,  "there  is  one  considera- 
tion that  you  appear  to  overlook :  there  are  a  great  many 
chances  that  your  pistol  may  miss  fire." 

"  I  have  a  pair,"  he  returned.  "  Never  travel  without 
a  brace  of  barkers." 

"  I  make  you  my  compliment,"  said  I.  "  You  are  able 
to  take  care  of  yourself,  and  that  is  a  good  trait.  But, 
my  good  man !  let  us  look  at  this  matter  dispassionately. 
You  are  not  a  coward,  and  no  more  am  1 ;  we  are  both 
men  of  excellent  sense;  I  have  good  reason,  whatever 
it  may  be,  to  keep  my  concerns  to  myself  and  to  walk 
alone.  Now,  I  put  it  to  you  pointedly,  am  I  likely  to 
stand  it  ?  Am  I  likely  to  put  up  with  your  continued 
and— excuse  me— highly  impudent  ingdrence  into  my 
private  affairs  ?  " 

174 


THE  ADVENTURE   OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

"Another  French  word,"  says  he  composedly. 

"  O !  damn  your  French  words !  "  cried  I.  "  You  seem 
to  be  a  Frenchman  yourself!  " 

*'l  have  had  many  opportunities,  by  which  I  have 
profited, "  he  explained.  "  Few  men  are  better  acquainted 
with  the  similarities  and  differences,  whether  of  idiom 
or  accent,  of  the  two  languages." 

**  You  are  a  pompous  fellow,  too!  "  said  I. 

"O,  I  can  make  distinctions,  sir,"  says  he.  "I  can 
talk  with  Bedfordshire  peasants ;  and  I  can  express  my- 
self becomingly,  I  hope,  in  the  company  of  a  gentleman 
of  education  like  yourself." 

"  If  you  set  up  to  be  a  gentleman—"  I  began. 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  interrupted :  "  I  make  no  such  claim. 
I  only  see  the  nobility  and  gentry  in  the  way  of  business. 
I  am  quite  a  plain  person." 

" For  the  Lord's  sake,"  I  exclaimed,  "set  my  mind  at 
rest  upon  one  point.  In  the  name  of  mystery,  who  and 
what  are  you  ?  " 

"I  have  no  cause  to  be  ashamed  of  my  name,  sir," 
said  he,  "  nor  yet  my  trade.  I  am  Thomas  Dudgeon,  at 
your  service,  clerk  to  Mr.  Daniel  Romaine,  solicitor  of 
London;  High  Holborn  is  our  address,  sir." 

It  was  only  by  the  ecstasy  of  the  relief  that  I  knew 
how  horribly  I  had  been  frightened.  I  flung  my  stick 
on  the  road. 

"Romaine?"  I  cried.  "Daniel  Romaine?  An  old 
hunks  with  a  red  face  and  a  big  head,  and  got  up  like 
a  Quaker  ?    My  dear  friend,  to  my  arms !  " 

"Keep  back,  I  say!  "  said  Dudgeon  weakly. 

I  would  not  listen  to  him.  With  the  end  of  my  own 
alarm,  I  felt  as  if  I  must  infallibly  be  at  the  end  of  all 

>75 


ST.  IVES 

dangers  likewise;  as  if  the  pistol  that  he  held  in  one 
hand  were  no  more  to  be  feared  than  the  valise  that  he 
carried  with  the  other,  and  now  put  up  like  a  barrier 
against  my  advance. 

**Keep  back,  or  1  declare  I  will  fire,"  he  was  crying. 
"  Have  a  care,  for  God's  sake!     My  pistol—" 

He  might  scream  as  he  pleased.  Willy-nilly,  I  folded 
him  to  my  breast,  I  pressed  him  there,  I  kissed  his  ugly 
mug  as  it  had  never  been  kissed  before  and  would  never 
be  kissed  again ;  and  in  the  doing  so  knocked  his  wig 
awry  and  his  hat  off.  He  bleated  in  my  embrace;  so 
bleats  the  sheep  in  the  arms  of  the  butcher.  The  whole 
thing,  on  looking  back,  appears  incomparably  reckless 
and  absurd ;  I  no  better  than  a  madman  for  offering  to 
advance  on  Dudgeon,  and  he  no  better  than  a  fool  for 
not  shooting  me  while  I  was  about  it.  But  all's  well 
that  ends  well ;  or,  as  the  people  in  these  days  kept  sing- 
ing and  whistling  on  the  streets : 

"  There's  a  sweet  little  cherub  that  sits  up  aloft, 
And  looks  out  for  the  life  of  poor  Jack." 

"There!  "  said  I,  releasing  him  a  little,  but  still  keep- 
ing my  hands  on  his  shoulders,  ''  je  vous  at  bel  et  bien 
embrass^—sind,  as  you  would  say,  there  is  another 
French  word."  With  his  wig  over  one  eye,  he  looked 
incredibly  rueful  and  put  out.  "  Cheer  up.  Dudgeon ;  the 
ordeal  is  over,  you  shall  be  embraced  no  more.  But  do, 
first  of  all,  for  God's  sake,  put  away  your  pistol;  you 
handle  it  as  if  it  were  a  cockatrice;  some  time  or  other, 
depend  upon  it,  it  will  certainly  go  off.  Here  is  your 
hat.  No,  let  me  put  it  on  square,  and  the  wig  before 
it.    Never  suffer  any  stress  of  circumstances  to  come 

176 


THE   ADVENTURE   OF  THE   ATTORNEY'S   CLERK 

between  you  and  the  duty  you  owe  to  yourself.  If  you 
have  nobody  else  to  dress  for,  dress  for  God  I 

Put  your  wig  straight 
On  your  bald  pate, 
Keep  your  chin  scraped, 
And  your  figure  draped. 

Can  you  match  me  that  ?  The  whole  duty  of  man  in  a 
quatrain !  And  remark,  I  do  not  set  up  to  be  a  profes- 
sional bard;  these  are  the  outpourings  of  a  dilettanteJ" 

"  But,  my  dear  sir!  "  he  exclaimed. 

''  But,  my  dear  sir!  "  I  echoed,  "  I  will  allow  no  man 
to  interrupt  the  flow  of  my  ideas.  Give  me  your  opin- 
ion on  my  quatrain,  or  I  vow  we  shall  have  a  quarrel 
of  it." 

*'  Certainly  you  are  quite  an  original,"  he  said. 

*'  Quite,"  said  I ;  "  and  I  believe  I  have  my  counterpart 
before  me." 

"  Well,  for  a  choice,"  says  he,  smiling,  "  and  whether 
for  sense  or  poetry,  give  me 

"  '  Worth  makes  the  man,  and  want  of  it  the  fellow: 
The  rest  is  all  but  leather  and  prunello.'  " 

"  O,  but  that's  not  fair— that's  Pope !  It's  not  original, 
Dudgeon.  Understand  me,"  said  I,  wringing  his  breast- 
button,  "  the  first  duty  of  all  poetry  is  to  be  mine,  sir- 
mine.  Inspiration  now  swells  in  my  bosom,  because 
—to  tell  you  the  plain  truth,  and  descend  a  little  in  style 
—I  am  devilish  relieved  at  the  turn  things  have  taken. 
So,  I  dare  say,  are  you  yourself.  Dudgeon,  if  you  would 
only  allow  it.  And  apropos,  let  me  ask  you  a  home 
question.  Between  friends,  have  you  ever  fired  that 
pistol  ?  " 

»77 


ST.  IVES 

"  Why,  yes,  sir, "  he  replied.  "  Twice— at  hedge-spar- 
rows." 

"  And  you  would  have  fired  at  me,  you  bloody-minded 
man  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  If  you  go  to  that,  you  seemed  mighty  reckless  with 
your  stick,"  said  Dudgeon. 

" Did  I  indeed ?  Well,  well,  'tis  all  past  history;  an- 
cient as  King  Pharamond— which  is  another  French 
word,  if  you  cared  to  accumulate  more  evidence,"  says 
I.  "  But  happily  we  are  now  the  best  of  friends,  and 
have  all  our  interests  in  common." 

**  You  go  a  little  too  fast,  if  you'll  excuse  me,  Mr. : 

I  do  not  know  your  name,  that  I  am  aware, "  said  Dudgeon. 

"No,  to  be  sure!  "  said  I.     "Never  heard  of  it!  " 

"A  word  of  explanation—"  he  began. 

"No,  Dudgeon!"  I  interrupted.  "Be  practical;  I 
know  what  you  want,  and  the  name  of  it  is  supper. 
Rien  ne  creuse  comme  V emotion.  I  am  hungry  myself, 
and  yet  I  am  more  accustomed  to  warlike  palpitations 
than  you,  who  are  but  a  hunter  of  hedge-sparrows.  Let 
me  look  at  your  face  critically :  your  bill  of  fare  is  three 
slices  of  cold  rare  roast  beef,  a  Welsh  rarebit,  a  pot 
of  stout,  and  a  glass  or  two  of  sound  tawny  port,  old 
in  bottle— the  right  milk  of  Englishmen."  Methought 
there  seemed  a  brightening  in  his  eye  and  a  melting 
about  his  mouth  at  this  enumeration. 

"The  night  is  young,"  I  continued;  "not  much  past 
eleven,  for  a  wager.  Where  can  we  find  a  good  inn  ? 
And  remark  that  I  say  good,  for  the  port  must  be  up  to 
the  occasion— not  a  headache  in  a  pipe  of  it." 

"Really,  sir,"  he  said,  smiling  a  little,  "you  have  a 
way  of  carrying  things—" 

178 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

"  Will  nothing  make  you  stick  to  the  subject  ?  "  I 
cried;  "you  have  the  most  irrelevant  mind!  How  do 
you  expect  to  rise  in  your  profession  ?     The  inn  ?  " 

**  Well,  I  will  say  you  are  a  facetious  gentleman ! "  said 
he.  "  You  must  have  your  way,  I  see.  We  are  not 
three  miles  from  Bedford  by  this  very  road." 

"  Done !  "  cried  I.     "  Bedford  be  it !  " 

I  tucked  his  arm  under  mine,  possessed  myself  of  the 
valise,  and  walked  him  off  unresisting.  Presently  we 
came  to  an  open  piece  of  country  lying  a  thought  down 
hill.  The  road  was  smooth  and  free  of  ice,  the  moon- 
shine thin  and  bright  over  the  meadows  and  the  leafless 
trees.  I  was  now  honestly  done  with  the  purgatory  of 
the  covered  cart ;  I  was  close  to  my  great-uncle's ;  I  had 
no  more  fear  of  Mr.  Dudgeon ;  which  were  all  grounds 
enough  for  jollity.  And  I  was  aware,  besides,  of  us 
two  as  of  a  pair  of  tiny  and  solitary  dolls  under  the  vast 
frosty  cupola  of  the  midnight;  the  rooms  decked,  the 
moon  burnished,  the  least  of  the  stars  lighted,  the  floor 
swept  and  waxed,  and  nothing  wanting  but  for  the  band 
to  strike  up  and  the  dancing  to  begin.  In  the  exhilara- 
tion of  my  heart  I  took  the  music  on  myself— 

"  Merrily  danced  the  Quaker's  wife, 
And  merrily  danced  the  Quaker." 

I  broke  into  that  animated  and  appropriate  air,  clapped 
my  arm  about  Dudgeon's  waist,  and  away  down  the 
hill  at  a  dancing  step !  He  hung  back  a  little  at  the  start, 
but  the  impulse  of  the  tune,  the  night,  and  my  example, 
were  not  to  be  resisted.  A  man  made  of  putty  must 
have  danced,  and  even  Dudgeon  showed  himself  to  be 
a  human  being.     Higher  and  higher  were  the  capers 

»79 


ST.  IVES 

that  we  cut;  the  moon  repeated  in  shadow  our  antic 
footsteps  and  gestures ;  and  it  came  over  my  mind  of  a 
sudden— really  like  balm— what  appearance  of  man  I 
was  dancing  with,  what  a  long  bilious  countenance  he 
had  shown  under  his  shaven  pate,  and  what  a  world  of 
trouble  the  rascal  had  given  me  in  the  immediate  past. 

Presently  we  began  to  see  the  lights  of  Bedford.  My 
puritanic  companion  stopped  and  disengaged  himself. 

"This  is  a  trifle  infra  dig.,  sir,  is  it  not?"  said  he. 
"  A  party  might  suppose  we  had  been  drinking." 

"  And  so  you  shall  be,  Dudgeon,"  said  I.  "  You  shall 
not  only  be  drinking,  you  old  hypocrite,  but  you  shall 
be  drunk— dead  drunk,  sir— and  the  boots  shall  put  you 
to  bed!  We'll  warn  him  when  we  go  in.  Never  neg- 
lect a  precaution ;  never  put  off  till  to-morrow  what  you 
can  do  to-day!  " 

But  he  had  no  more  frivolity  to  complain  of.  We 
finished  our  stage  and  came  to  the  inn  door  with  deco- 
rum, to  find  the  house  still  alight  and  in  a  bustle  with 
many  late  arrivals;  to  give  our  orders  with  a  prompt 
severity  which  insured  obedience,  and  to  be  served  soon 
after  at  a  side  table,  close  to  the  fire  and  in  a  blaze  of 
candle-light,  with  such  a  meal  as  I  had  been  dreaming 
of  for  days  past.  For  days,  you  are  to  remember,  I  had 
been  skulking  in  the  covered  cart,  a  prey  to  cold,  hun- 
ger, and  an  accumulation  of  discomforts  that  might 
have  daunted  the  most  brave;  and  the  white  table  na- 
pery,  the  bright  crystal,  the  reverberation  of  the  fire,  the 
red  curtains,  the  Turkey  carpet,  the  portraits  on  the 
coffee-room  wall,  the  placid  faces  of  the  two  or  three 
late  guests  who  were  silently  prolonging  the  pleasures 
of  digestion,  and  (last,  but  not  by  any  means  least)  a 

I  So 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  ATTORNEY'S  CLERK 

glass  of  an  excellent  light  dry  port,  put  me  in  a  humour 
only  to  be  described  as  heavenly.  The  thought  of  the 
colonel,  of  how  he  would  have  enjoyed  this  snug  room 
and  roaring  fire,  and  of  his  cold  grave  in  the  wood  by 
Market  Bosworth,  lingered  on  my  palate,  a  mari  aliquid, 
like  an  after-taste,  but  was  not  able— I  say  it  with 
shame— entirely  to  dispel  my  self-complacency.  After 
all,  in  this  world  every  dog  hangs  by  its  own  tail.  I 
was  a  free  adventurer,  who  had  just  brought  to  a  suc- 
cessful end— or,  at  least,  within  view  of  it— an  adven- 
ture very  difficult  and  alarming ;  and  I  looked  across  at 
Mr.  Dudgeon,  as  the  port  rose  to  his  cheeks,  and  a  smile, 
that  was  semi-confidential  and  a  trifle  foolish,  began  to 
play  upon  his  leathery  features,  not  only  with  compo- 
sure, but  with  a  suspicion  of  kindness.  The  rascal  had 
been  brave,  a  quality  for  which  I  would  value  the  devil; 
and  if  he  had  been  pertinacious  in  the  beginning,  he  had 
more  than  made  up  for  it  before  the  end. 

"  And  now.  Dudgeon,  to  explain,"  I  began.  "  I  know 
your  master,  he  knows  me,  and  he  knows  and  approves 
of  my  errand.  So  much  I  may  tell  you,  that  I  am  on 
my  way  to  Amersham  Place." 

"Oho!  "  quoth  Dudgeon,  "I  begin  to  see." 
"I  am  heartily  glad  of  it,"  said  I,  passing  the  bottle, 
"  because  that  is  about  all  I  can  tell  you.  You  must  take 
my  word  for  the  remainder.  Either  believe  me,  or  don't. 
If  you  don't,  let's  take  a  chaise;  you  can  carry  me  to- 
morrow to  High  Holborn,  and  confront  me  with  Mr. 
Romaine;  the  result  of  which  will  be  to  set  your  mind 
at  rest— and  to  make  the  holiest  disorder  in  your  mas- 
ter's plans.  If  I  judge  you  aright  (for  I  find  you  a 
shrewd  fellow),  this  will  not  be  at  all  to  your  mind, 

i8i 


ST.  IVES 

You  know  what  a  subordinate  gets  by  officiousness ;  if 
I  can  trust  my  memory,  old  Romaine  has  not  at  all  the 
face  that  I  should  care  to  see  in  anger;  and  I  venture  to 
predict  surprising  results  upon  your  weekly  salary— if 
you  are  paid  by  the  week,  that  is.  In  short,  let  me  go 
free,  and  'tis  an  end  of  the  matter;  take  me  to  London, 
and  'tis  only  a  beginning— and,  by  my  opinion,  a  be- 
ginning of  troubles.     You  can  take  your  choice." 

"And  that  is  soon  taken,"  said  he.  "Go  to  Amer- 
sham  to-morrow,  or  go  to  the  devil  if  you  prefer— I  wash 
my  hands  of  you  and  the  whole  transaction.  No,  you 
don't  find  me  putting  my  head  in  between  Romaine  and 
a  client!  A  good  man  of  business,  sir,  but  hard  as 
millstone  grit.  I  might  get  the  sack,  and  I  shouldn't 
wonder!  But,  it's  a  pity,  too,"  he  added,  and  sighed, 
shook  his  head,  and  took  his  glass  off  sadly. 

"  That  reminds  me, "  said  I.  "  I  have  a  great  curiosity, 
and  you  can  satisfy  it.  Why  were  you  so  forward  to 
meddle  with  poor  Mr.  Dubois  ?  Why  did  you  transfer 
your  attentions  to  me  ?  And  generally,  what  induced 
you  to  make  yourself  such  a  nuisance  ?  " 

,He  blushed  deeply. 

"Why,  sir,"  says  he,  "there  ts  such  a  thing  as  patri- 
otism, I  hope." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   HOME-COMING   OF   MR.  ROWLEY'S   VISCOUNT 

By  eight  the  next  morning  Dudgeon  and  I  had  made 
our  parting.  By  that  time  we  had  grown  to  be  ex- 
tremely familiar;  and  I  would  very  willingly  have  kept 
him  by  me,  and  even  carried  him  to  Amersham  Place. 
But  it  appeared  he  was  due  at  the  public-house  where 
we  had  met,  on  some  affairs  of  my  great-uncle,  the 
Count,  who  had  an  outlying  estate  in  that  part  of  the 
shire.  If  Dudgeon  had  had  his  way  the  night  before, 
I  should  have  been  arrested  on  my  uncle's  land  and  by 
my  uncle's  agent,  a  culmination  of  ill-luck. 

A  little  after  noon  I  started,  in  a  hired  chaise,  by  way 
of  Dunstable.  The  mere  mention  of  the  name  Amer- 
sham Place  made  every  one  supple  and  smiling.  It  was 
plainly  a  great  house,  and  my  uncle  lived  there  in  style. 
The  fame  of  it  rose  as  we  approached,  like  a  chain  of 
mountains;  at  Bedford  they  touched  their  caps,  but  in 
Dunstable  they  crawled  upon  their  bellies.  I  thought 
the  landlady  would  have  kissed  me;  such  a  flutter  of 
cordiality,  such  smiles,  such  affectionate  attentions  were 
called  forth,  and  the  good  lady  bustled  on  my  service  in 
such  a  pother  of  ringlets  and  with  such  a  jingling  of 
keys.     "You're  probably  expected,  sir,  at  the  Place? 

183 


ST.  IVES 

I  do  trust  you  may  'ave  better  accounts  of  his  lordship's 
'elth,  sir.  We  understood  that  his  lordship,  Mosha  de 
Carwell,  was  main  bad.  Ha,  sir,  we  shall  all  feel  his 
loss,  poor,  dear,  noble  gentleman;  and  I'm  sure  nobody 
more  polite!  They  do  say,  sir,  his  wealth  is  enormous, 
and  before  the  Revolution  quite  a  prince  in  his  own 
country!  But  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir;  'ow  I  do  run  on, 
to  be  sure;  and  doubtless  all  beknown  to  you  already! 
For  you  do  resemble  the  family,  sir.  I  should  have 
known  you  anywheres  by  the  likeness  to  the  dear  Vis- 
count. Ha,  poor  gentleman,  he  must  'ave  a  'eavy  'eart 
these  days." 

In  the  same  place  I  saw  out  of  the  inn  windows  a 
man-servant  passing  in  the  livery  of  my  house,  which 
you  are  to  think  I  had  never  before  seen  worn,  or  not 
that  I  could  remember.  I  had  often  enough,  indeed, 
pictured  myself  advanced  to  be  a  Marshal,  a  Duke  of 
the  Empire,  a  Grand  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  and 
some  other  kickshaws  of  the  kind,  with  a  perfect  rout 
of  flunkeys  correctly  dressed  in  my  own  colours.  But 
it  is  one  thing  to  imagine,  and  another  to  see;  it  would 
be  one  thing  to  have  these  liveries  in  a  house  of  my  own 
in  Paris— it  was  quite  another  to  find  them  flaunting  in 
the  heart  of  hostile  England;  and  I  fear  I  should  have 
made  a  fool  of  myself,  if  the  man  had  not  been  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street,  and  I  at  a  one-pane  window. 
There  was  something  illusory  in  this  transplantation  of 
the  wealth  and  honours  of  a  family,  a  thing  by  its  nature 
so  deeply  rooted  in  the  soil;  something  ghostly  in  this 
sense  of  home-coming  so  far  from  home. 

From  Dunstable  I  rode  away  into  a  crescendo  of  simi- 
lar impressions.     There  are  certainly  few  things  to  be 

184 


THE  HOME-COMING  OF  MR.  ROWLEY'S  VISCOUNT 

compared  with  these  castles,  or  rather  country-seats,  of 
the  English  nobility  and  gentry ;  nor  anything  at  all  to 
equal  the  servility  of  the  population  that  dwells  in  their 
neighbourhood.  Though  I  was  but  driving  in  a  hired 
chaise,  word  of  my  destination  seemed  to  have  gone 
abroad,  and  the  women  curtseyed  and  the  men  louted 
to  me  by  the  wayside.  As  I  came  near,  I  began  to  ap- 
preciate the  roots  of  this  wide-spread  respect.  The  look 
of  my  uncle's  park  wall,  even  from  the  outside,  had 
something  of  a  princely  character;  and  when  I  came  in 
view  of  the  house  itself,  a  sort  of  madness  of  vicarious 
vainglory  struck  me  dumb  and  kept  me  staring.  It  was 
about  the  size  of  the  Tuileries.  It  faced  due  north ;  and 
the  last  rays  of  the  sun,  that  was  setting  like  a  red-hot 
shot  amidst  a  tumultuous  gathering  of  snow  clouds, 
were  reflected  on  the  endless  rows  of  windows.  A 
portico  of  Doric  columns  adorned  the  front,  and  would 
have  done  honour  to  a  temple.  The  servant  who  re- 
ceived me  at  the  door  was  civil  to  a  fault— I  had  almost 
said,  to  offence;  and  the  hall  to  which  he  admitted  me 
through  a  pair  of  glass  doors  was  warmed  and  already 
partly  lighted  by  a  liberal  chimney  heaped  with  the 
roots  of  beeches. 

"  Vicomte  Anne  de  Saint-Yves,"  said  I,  in  answer  to 
the  man's  question;  whereupon  he  bowed  before  me 
lower  still,  and  stepping  upon  one  side  introduced  me 
to  the  truly  awful  presence  of  the  majordomo.  I  have 
seen  many  dignitaries  in  my  time,  but  none  who  quite 
equalled  this  eminent  being;  who  was  good  enough  to 
answer  to  the  unassuming  name  of  "Mr."  Dawson. 
From  him  I  learned  that  my  uncle  was  extremely  low, 
a  doctor  in  close  attendance,  Mr.  Romaine  expected  at 

185 


ST.  IVES 

any  moment,  and  that  my  cousin,  the  Vicomte  de  Saint- 
Yves,  had  been  sent  for  the  same  morning. 

"  It  was  a  sudden  seizure,  then  ?  "  I  asked. 

Well,  he  would  scarcely  go  as  far  as  that.  It  was  a 
decline,  a  fading  away,  sir;  but  he  was  certainly  took 
bad  the  day  before,  had  sent  for  Mr.  Romaine,  and  the 
majordomo  had  taken  it  on  himself  a  little  later  to  send 
word  to  the  Viscount.  "It  seemed  to  me,  my  lord," 
said  he,  "as  if  this  was  a  time  when  all  the  fambly 
should  be  called  together." 

I  approved  him  with  my  lips,  but  not  in  my  heart. 
Dawson  was  plainly  in  the  interests  of  my  cousin. 

"  And  when  can  I  expect  to  see  my  great-uncle,  the 
Count  ?  "  said  I. 

In  the  evening,  I  was  told;  in  the  meantime  he  would 
show  me  to  my  room,  which  had  been  long  prepared 
for  me,  and  I  should  be  expected  to  dine  in  about  an 
hour  with  the  doctor,  if  my  lordship  had  no  objections. 

My  lordship  had  not  the  faintest. 

**  At  the  same  time,"  I  said,  "  I  have  had  an  accident: 
I  have  unhappily  lost  my  baggage,  and  am  here  in  what 
I  stand  in.  I  don't  know  if  the  doctor  be  a  formalist, 
but  it  is  quite  impossible  I  should  appear  at  table  as  I 
ought." 

He  begged  me  to  be  under  no  anxiety.  "  We  have 
been  long  expecting  you,"  said  he.     "  All  is  ready." 

Such  I  found  to  be  the  truth.  A  great  room  had  been 
prepared  for  me;  through  the  mullioned  windows  the 
last  flicker  of  the  winter  sunset  interchanged  with  the 
reverberation  of  a  royal  fire;  the  bed  was  open,  a  suit 
of  evening  clothes  was  airing  before  the  blaze,  and  from 
the  far  corner  a  boy  came  forward  with  deprecatory 

186 


THE  HOME-COMING  OF  MR.  ROWLEY'S  VISCOUNT 

smiles.  The  Jream  in  which  I  had  been  moving  seemed 
to  have  reached  its  pitch.  I  might  have  quitted  this 
house  and  room  only  the  night  before;  it  was  my  own 
place  that  I  had  come  to;  and  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life  I  understood  the  force  of  the  words  home  and  wel- 
come. 

"  This  will  be  all  as  you  would  want,  sir  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Dawson.  "This  'ere  boy,  Rowley,  we  place  entirely 
at  your  disposition.  'E's  not  exactly  a  trained  vallet, 
but  Mossho  Fowl,  the  Viscount's  gentleman,  'ave  give 
him  the  benefick  of  a  few  lessons,  and  it  is  'oped  that 
he  may  give  sitisfection.  Hanythink  that  you  may  re- 
quire, if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  mention  the  same  to 
Rowley,  I  will  make  it  my  business  myself,  sir,  to  see 
you  satisfied." 

So  saying,  the  eminent  and  already  detested  Mr. 
Dawson  took  his  departure,  and  I  was  left  alone  with 
Rowley.  A  man  who  may  be  said  to  have  wakened  to 
consciousness  in  the  prison  of  the  Abbaye,  among  those 
ever  graceful  and  ever  tragic  figures  of  the  brave  and 
fair,  awaiting  the  hour  of  the  guillotine  and  denuded  of 
every  comfort,  I  had  never  known  the  luxuries  or  the 
amenities  of  my  rank  in  life.  To  be  attended  on  by 
servants  I  had  only  been  accustomed  to  in  inns.  My 
toilet  had  long  been  military,  to  a  moment,  at  the  note 
of  a  bugle,  too  often  at  a  ditch-side.  And  it  need  not 
be  wondered  at  if  I  looked  on  my  new  valet  with  a  cer- 
tain diffidence.  But  I  remembered  that  if  he  was  my 
first  experience  of  a  valet,  I  was  his  first  trial  of  a  mas- 
ter. Cheered  by  which  consideration,  I  demanded  my 
bath  in  a  style  of  good  assurance.  There  was  a  bath- 
room contiguous ;  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time 

187 


ST.  IVES 

the  hot  water  was  ready ;  and  soon  after,  arrayed  in  a 
shawl  dressing-gown,  and  in  a  luxury  of  contentment 
and  comfort,  I  was  reclined  in  an  easy-chair  before  the 
mirror,  while  Rowley,  with  a  mixture  of  pride  and  anx- 
iety which  I  could  well  understand,  laid  out  his  razors. 

"  Hey,  Rowley  ?  "  I  asked,  not  quite  resigned  to  go 
under  fire  with  such  an  inexperienced  commander. 
"It's  all  right,  is  it?  You  feel  pretty  sure  of  your 
weapons  ?  " 

"Yes,  my  lord,"  he  replied.  "It's  all  right,  I  assure 
your  lordship." 

"  1  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Rowley,  but  for  the  sake  of 
shortness,  would  you  mind  not  belording  me  in  pri- 
vate ?  "  said  I.  "  It  will  do  very  well  if  you  call  me  Mr. 
Anne.  It  is  the  way  of  my  country,  as  I  dare  say  you 
know." 

Mr.  Rowley  looked  blank. 

"  But  you're  just  as  much  a  Viscount  as  Mr.  Fowl's, 
are  you  not  ?  "  he  said. 

"  As  Mr.  Fowl's  Viscount  ?  "  said  I,  laughing.  "  O, 
keep  your  mind  easy,  Mr.  Rowley's  is  every  bit  as  good. 
Only,  you  see,  as  I  am  of  the  younger  line,  I  bear  my 
Christian  name  along  with  the  title.  Alain  is  the  K/5- 
count;  I  am  the  yiscount  Anne.  And  in  giving  me  the 
name  of  Mr.  Anne,  I  assure  you  you  will  be  quite  regu- 
lar." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Anne,"  said  the  docile  youth.  "  But  about 
the  shaving,  sir,  you  need  be  under  no  alarm.  Mr. 
Fowl  says  I  'ave  excellent  dispositions." 

"  Mr.  Fowl  ?  "  said  I.  "  That  doesn't  seem  to  me 
very  like  a  French  name." 

"No,  sir,  indeed,  my  lord,"  said  he,  with  a  burst  of 


THE   HOME-COMING   OF  MR.  ROWLEY'S  VISCOUNT 

confidence.  "No,  indeed,  Mr.  Anne,  and  it  do  not 
surely.     I  should  say  now,  it  was  more  like  Mr.  Pole.'* 

"  And  Mr.  Fowl  is  the  Viscount's  man  ?  " 

"Yes,  Mr.  Anne,"  said  he.  "He  'ave  a  hard  billet, 
he  do.  The  Viscount  is  a  very  particular  gentleman. 
I  don't  think  as  you'll  be,  Mr.  Anne  ?  "  he  added,  with 
a  confidential  smile  in  the  mirror. 

He  was  about  sixteen,  well  set  up,  with  a  pleasant, 
merry,  freckled  face,  and  a  pair  of  dancing  eyes.  There 
was  an  air  at  once  deprecatory  and  insinuating  about  the 
rascal  that  I  thought  I  recognised.  There  came  to  me 
from  my  own  boyhood  memories  of  certain  passionate 
admirations  long  passed  away,  and  the  objects  of  them 
long  ago  discredited  or  dead.  I  remembered  how  anx- 
ious I  had  been  to  serve  those  fleeting  heroes,  how 
readily  I  told  myself  I  would  have  died  for  ihem,  how 
much  greater  and  handsomer  than  life  they  had  appeared. 
And  looking  in  the  mirror,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  read 
the  face  of  Rowley,  like  an  echo  or  a  ghost,  by  the  light 
of  my  own  youth.  I  have  always  contended  (some- 
what against  the  opinion  of  my  friends)  that  I  am  first 
of  all  an  economist;  and  the  last  thing  that  I  would  care 
to  throw  away  is  that  very  valuable  piece  of  property— 
a  boy's  hero-worship. 

"Why,"  said  I,  "you  shave  like  an  angel,  Mr.  Row- 
ley!" 

"  Thank  you,  my  lord,"  said  he.  "  Mr.  Fowl  had  no 
fear  of  me.  You  may  be  sure,  sir,  I  should  never  'ave 
had  this  berth  if  I  'adn't  'ave  been  up  to  Dick.  We  been 
expecting  of  you  this  month  back.  My  eye !  I  never  see 
such  preparations.  Every  day  the  fires  has  been  kep' 
up,  the  bed  made,  and  all !     As  soon  as  it  was  known 

I  So 


ST.  IVES 

you  were  coming,  sir,  I  got  the  appointment;  and  I've 
been  up  and  down  since  then  like  a  Jack-in-the-box.  A 
wheel  couldn't  sound  in  the  avenue  but  what  I  was  at 
the  window!  I've  had  a  many  disappointments;  but 
to-night,  as  soon  as  you  stepped  out  of  the  shay,  I  knew 
it  was  my— it  was  you.  O,  you  had  been  expected! 
Why,  when  I  go  down  to  supper,  I'll  be  the  'ero  of  the 
servants'  'all:  the  'ole  of  the  staff  is  that  curious!" 

*'  Well,"  said  I,  "  I  hope  you  may  be  able  to  give  a  fair 
account  of  me— sober,  steady,  industrious,  good-tem- 
pered, and  with  a  first-rate  character  from  my  last 
place  ?  " 

He  laughed  an  embarrassed  laugh.  "  Your  hair  curls 
beautiful,"  he  said,  by  way  of  changing  the  subject. 
*'  The  Viscount's  the  boy  for  curls,  though ;  and  the  rich- 
ness of  it  is,  Mr.  Fowl  tells  me  his  don't  curl  no  more 
than  that  much  twine— by  nature.  Gettin'  old,  the  Vis- 
count is.     He  'ave  gone  the  pace,  'aven't  'e,  sir  }  " 

"The  fact  is,"  said  I,  ''that  I  know  very  little  about 
him.  Our  family  has  been  much  divided,  and  I  have 
been  a  soldier  from  a  child." 

"  A  soldier,  Mr.  Anne,  sir  ?  "  cried  Rowley,  with  a 
sudden  feverish  animation.  "  Was  you  ever  wounded  }  " 

It  is  contrary  to  my  principles  to  discourage  admira- 
tion for  myself;  and,  slipping  back  the  shoulder  of  the 
dressing-gown,  I  silently  exhibited  the  scar  which  I  had 
received  in  Edinburgh  Castle.     He  looked  at  it  with  awe. 

"  Ah,  well!  "  he  continued,  "there's  where  the  differ- 
ence comes  in!  It's  in  the  training.  The  other  Vis- 
count have  been  horse-racing,  and  dicing,  and  carrying 
on  all  his  life.  All  right  enough,  no  doubt;  but  what 
I  do  say  is,  that  it  don't  lead  to  nothink.     Whereas—" 

190 


THE  HOME-COMING  OF  MR.  ROWLEY'S  VISCOUNT 

"  Whereas  Mr.  Rowley's  ?  "  I  put  in. 

"  My  Viscount  ?  "  said  he.  "  Well,  sir,  I  did  say  it; 
and  now  that  I've  seen  you,  I  say  it  again!  " 

I  could  not  refrain  from  smiling  at  this  outburst,  and 
the  rascal  caught  me  in  the  mirror  and  smiled  to  me  again. 

"I'd  say  it  again,  Mr.  Hanne,"  he  said.  "I  know 
which  side  my  bread's  buttered.  I  know  when  a  gen- 
'leman's  a  gen'leman.  Mr.  Fowl  can  go  to  Putney  with 
his  one!  Beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Anne,  for  being  so 
familiar,"  said  he,  blushing  suddenly  scarlet.  "I  was 
especially  warned  against  it  by  Mr.  Fowl." 

**  Discipline  before  all,"  said  I.  "  Follow  your  front- 
rank  man." 

With  that,  we  began  to  turn  our  attention  to  the 
clothes.  I  was  amazed  to  find  them  fit  so  well:  not  a 
la  diable,  in  the  haphazard  manner  of  a  soldier's  uniform 
or  a  ready-made  suit;  but  with  nicety,  as  a  trained  artist 
might  rejoice  to  make  them  for  a  favourite  subject. 

*"Tis  extraordinary,"  cried  I:  ** these  things  fit  me 
perfectly." 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Anne,  you  two  be  very  much  of  a 
shape,"  said  Rowley. 

"  Who  }    What  two  }  "  said  I. 

"The  Viscount,"  he  said. 

"  Damnation !  Have  I  the  man's  clothes  on  me,  too  ?  " 
cried  I. 

But  Rowley  hastened  to  reassure  me.  On  the  first 
word  of  my  coming,  the  Count  had  put  the  matter  of 
my  wardrobe  in  the  hands  of  his  own  and  my  cousin's 
tailors;  and  on  the  rumour  of  our  resemblance,  my 
clothes  had  been  made  to  Alain's  measure. 

"  But  they  were  all  made  for  you  express,  Mr.  Anne. 
191 


ST.  IVES 

You  may  be  certain  the  Count  would  never  do  nothing 
by  'alf :  fires  kep'  burning;  the  finest  of  clothes  ordered, 
I'm  sure,  and  a  body-servant  being  trained  a-purpose." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "it's  a  good  fire,  and  a  good  set-out 
of  clothes ;  and  what  a  valet,  Mr.  Rowley  1  And  there's 
one  thing  to  be  said  for  my  cousin— I  mean  for  Mr. 
Fowl's  Viscount— he  has  a  very  fair  figure." 

"  O,  don't  you  be  took  in,  Mr.  Anne,"  quoth  the  faith- 
less Rowley:  "he  has  to  be  hyked  into  a  pair  of  stays 
to  get  them  things  on!  " 

"Come,  come,  Mr.  Rowley,"  said  I,  "this  is  telling 
tales  out  of  school!  Do  not  you  be  deceived.  The 
greatest  men  of  antiquity,  including  Caesar  and  Hannibal 
and  Pope  Joan,  may  have  been  very  glad,  at  my  time  of 
life  or  Alain's,  to  follow  his  example.  'Tis  a  misfortune 
common  to  all;  and  really,"  said  I,  bowing  to  myself 
before  the  mirror  like  one  who  should  dance  the  minuet, 
"  when  the  result  is  so  successful  as  this,  who  would  do 
anything  but  applaud  ?  " 

My  toilet  concluded,  I  marched  on  to  fresh  surprises. 
My  chamber,  my  new  valet,  and  my  new  clothes  had 
been  beyond  hope:  the  dinner,  the  soup,  the  whole  bill 
of  fare  was  a  revelation  of  the  powers  there  are  in  man. 
I  had  not  supposed  it  lay  in  the  genius  of  any  cook  to 
create,  out  of  common  beef  and  mutton,  things  so  differ- 
ent and  dainty.  The  wine  was  of  a  piece,  the  doctor  a 
most  agreeable  companion;  nor  could  I  help  reflecting 
on  the  prospect  that  all  this  wealth,  comfort,  and  hand- 
some profusion  might  still  very  possibly  become  mine. 
Here  were  a  change  indeed,  from  the  common  soldier 
and  the  camp-kettle,  the  prisoner  and  his  prison  rations, 
the  fugitive  and  the  horrors  of  the  covered  cart! 

193 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE   DESPATCH-BOX 

The  doctor  had  scarce  finished  his  meal  before  he 
hastened  with  an  apology  to  attend  upon  his  patient; 
and  almost  immediately  after,  1  was  myself  summoned 
and  ushered  up  the  great  staircase  and  along  intermi- 
nable corridors  to  the  bedside  of  my  great-uncle,  the 
Count.  You  are  to  think  that  up  to  the  present  mo- 
ment I  had  not  set  eyes  on  this  formidable  personage, 
only  on  the  evidences  of  his  wealth  and  kindness.  You 
are  to  think  besides  that  I  had  heard  him  miscalled  and 
abused  from  my  earliest  childhood  up.  The  first  of  the 
emigres  could  never  expect  a  good  word  in  the  society 
in  which  my  father  moved.  Even  yet  the  reports  1  re- 
ceived were  of  a  doubtful  nature;  even  Romaine  had 
drawn  of  him  no  very  amiable  portrait;  and  as  I  was 
ushered  into  the  room,  it  was  a  critical  eye  that  I  cast 
on  my  great-uncle.  He  lay  propped  on  pillows  in  a  lit- 
tle cot  no  greater  than  a  camp-bed,  not  visibly  breathing. 
He  was  about  eighty  years  of  age,  and  looked  it;  not 
that  his  face  was  much  lined,  but  all  the  blood  and  colour 
seemed  to  have  faded  from  his  body,  and  even  his  eyes, 
which  last  he  kept  usually  closed  as  though  the  light 
distressed  him.     There  was  an  unspeakable  degree  of 

^93 


ST.  IVES 

slyness  in  his  expression,  which  kept  me  ill  at  ease;  he 
seemed  to  lie  there  with  his  arms  folded,  like  a  spider 
waiting  for  prey.  His  speech  was  very  deliberate  and 
courteous,  but  scarce  louder  than  a  sigh. 

"I  bid  you  welcome,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte  Anne,'' 
said  he,  looking  at  me  hard  with  his  pale  eyes,  but  not 
moving  on  his  pillows.  "  I  have  sent  for  you,  and  I 
thank  you  for  the  obliging  expedition  you  have  shown. 
It  is  my  misfortune  that  I  cannot  rise  to  receive  you.  I 
trust  you  have  been  reasonably  well  entertained  ?  " 

"Monsieur  mon  oncle,*'  I  said,  bowing  very  low,  "I 
am  come  at  the  summons  of  the  head  of  my  family." 

"  It  is  well,"  he  said.  "  Be  seated.  I  should  be  glad 
to  hear  some  news— if  that  can  be  called  news  that  is 
already  twenty  years  old— of  how  I  have  the  pleasure  to 
see  you  here." 

By  the  coldness  of  his  address,  not  more  than  by  the 
nature  of  the  times  that  he  bade  me  recall,  I  was  plunged 
in  melancholy.  I  felt  myself  surrounded  as  with  deserts 
of  friendlessness,  and  the  delight  of  my  welcome  was 
turned  to  ashes  in  my  mouth. 

"That  is  soon  told,  monseigneur"  said  I.  "I  under- 
stand that  I  need  tell  you  nothing  of  the  end  of  my  un- 
happy parents  ?     It  is  only  the  story  of  the  lost  dog." 

"  You  are  right.  I  am  sufficiently  informed  of  that 
deplorable  affair;  it  is  painful  to  me.  My  nephew, 
your  father,  was  a  man  who  would  not  be  advised," 
said  he.     "  Tell  me,  if  you  please,  simply  of  yourself." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must  run  the  risk  of  harrowing  your 
sensibility  in  the  beginning,"  said  I,  with  a  bitter  smile, 
"  because  my  story  begins  at  the  foot  of  the  guillotine. 
When  the  list  came  out  that  night,  and  her  name  was 

194 


THE   DESPATCH-BOX 

there,  I  was  already  old  enough,  not  in  years,  but  in  sad 
experience,  to  understand  the  extent  of  my  misfortune. 
She—'*  I  paused.  "  Enough  that  she  arranged  with  a 
friend,  Madame  de  Chasserades,  that  she  should  take 
charge  of  me,  and  by  the  favour  of  our  jailers  I  was 
suffered  to  remain  in  the  shelter  of  the  Abbaye.  That 
was  my  only  refuge ;  there  was  no  corner  of  France  that 
I  could  rest  the  sole  of  my  foot  upon  except  the  prison. 
Monsieur  le  Comte,  you  are  as  well  aware  as  I  can  be 
what  kind  of  a  life  that  was,  and  how  swiftly  death 
smote  in  that  society.  I  did  not  wait  long  before  the 
name  of  Madame  de  Chasserades  succeeded  to  that  of 
my  mother  on  the  list.  She  passed  me  on  to  Madame 
de  Noytot;  she,  in  her  turn,  to  Mademoiselle  de  Braye; 
and  there  were  others.  I  was  the  one  thing  permanent; 
they  were  all  transient  as  clouds ;  a  day  or  two  of  their 
care,  and  then  came  the  last  farewell  and— somewhere 
far  off  in  that  roaring  Paris  that  surrounded  us— the 
bloody  scene.  I  was  the  cherished  one,  the  last  com- 
fort, of  these  dying  women.  I  have  been  in  pitched 
fights,  my  lord,  and  I  never  knew  such  courage.  It 
was  all  done  smiling,  in  the  tone  of  good  society;  belle 
maman  was  the  name  I  was  taught  to  give  to  each ;  and 
for  a  day  or  two  the  new  *  pretty  mamma '  would  make 
much  of  me,  show  me  off,  teach  me  the  minuet,  and  to 
say  my  prayers;  and  then,  with  a  tender  embrace, 
would  go  the  way  of  her  predecessors,  smiling.  There 
were  some  that  wept  too.  There  was  a  childhood! 
All  the  time  M.  de  Culemberg  kept  his  eye  on  me, 
and  would  have  had  me  out  of  the  Abbaye  and  in  his 
own  protection,  but  my  *  pretty  mammas '  one  after 
another  resisted  the  idea.     Where  could  I  be  safer  ?  they 

1 95 


ST.  IVES 

argued ;  and  what  was  to  become  of  them  without  the 
darling  of  the  prison  ?  Well,  it  was  soon  shown  how 
safe  I  was!  The  dreadful  day  of  the  massacre  came; 
the  prison  was  overrun ;  none  paid  attention  to  me,  not 
even  the  last  of  my  *  pretty  mammas,'  for  she  had  met 
another  fate.  I  was  wandering  distracted,  when  I  was 
found  by  some  one  in  the  interests  of  M.  de  Culem- 
berg.  I  understand  he  was  sent  on  purpose;  I  be- 
lieve, in  order  to  reach  the  interior  of  the  prison,  he  had 
set  his  hand  to  nameless  barbarities :  such  was  the  price 
paid  for  my  worthless,  whimpering  little  life !  He  gave 
me  his  hand;  it  was  wet,  and  mine  was  reddened;  he 
led  me  unresisting.  I  remember  but  the  one  circum- 
stance of  my  flight— it  was  my  last  view  of  my  last 
pretty  mamma.  Shall  I  describe  it  to  you  ?  "  I  asked 
the  Count,  with  a  sudden  fierceness. 

"Avoid  unpleasant  details,"  observed  my  great-uncle 
gently. 

At  these  words  a  sudden  peace  fell  upon  me.  I  had 
been  angry  with  the  man  before;  I  had  not  sought  to 
spare  him ;  and  now,  in  a  moment,  I  saw  that  there  was 
nothing  to  spare.  Whether  from  natural  heartlessness 
or  extreme  old  age,  the  soul  was  not  at  home;  and  my 
benefactor,  who  had  kept  the  fire  lit  in  my  room  for  a 
month  past— my  only  relative  except  Alain,  whom  I 
knew  already  to  be  a  hired  spy— had  trodden  out  the 
last  sparks  of  hope  and  interest. 

"Certainly,"  said  I;  "and,  indeed,  the  day  for  them 
is  nearly  over.  I  was  taken  to  M.  de  Culemberg's,— I 
presume,  sir,  that  you  know  the  Abbe  de  Culemberg  ?  " 

He  indicated  assent  without  opening  his  eyes. 

"  He  was  a  very  brave  and  a  very  learned  man—" 
196 


THE   DESPATCH-BOX 

"And  a  very  holy  one,"  said  my  uncle  civilly. 

"And  a  very  holy  one,  as  you  observe,"  I  continued. 
"  He  did  an  infinity  of  good,  and  through  all  the  Ter- 
ror kept  himself  from  the  guillotine.  He  brought  me 
up,  and  gave  me  such  education  as  I  have.  It  was  in 
his  house  in  the  country  at  Dammarie,  near  Melun,  that 
I  made  the  acquaintance  of  your  agent,  Mr.  Vicary,  who 
lay  there  in  hiding,  only  to  fall  a  victim  at  the  last  to  a 
gang  of  chauffeurs.'' 

"This  poor  Mr.  Vicary!  "  observed  my  uncle.  "  He 
had  been  many  times  in  my  interests  to  France,  and  this 
was  his  first  failure.  Quel  charmant  bomme,  n'est-ce 
pas?  " 

"Infinitely  so,"  said  I.  "But  I  would  not  willingly 
detain  you  any  further  with  a  story  the  details  of  which 
it  must  naturally  be  more  or  less  unpleasant  for  you  to 
hear.  Suffice  it  that,  by  M.  de  Culemberg's  advice,  I 
said  farewell  at  eighteen  to  that  kind  preceptor  and  his 
books,  and  entered  the  service  of  France ;  and  have  since 
then  carried  arms  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  disgrace 
my  family." 

"You  narrate  well;  vous  ave^  la  voix  chaude,''  said 
my  uncle,  turning  on  his  pillows  as  if  to  study  me.  "  I 
have  a  very  good  account  of  you  by  M.  de  Mauseant, 
whom  you  helped  in  Spain.  And  you  had  some  edu- 
cation from  the  Abbe  de  Culemberg,  a  man  of  a  good 
house  ?  Yes,  you  will  do  very  well.  You  have  a  good 
manner  and  a  handsome  person,  which  hurts  nothing. 
We  are  all  handsome  in  the  family;  even  I  myself,  I 
have  had  my  successes,  the  memories  of  which  still 
charm  me.  It  is  my  intention,  my  nephew,  to  make  of 
you  my  heir.     I  am  not  very  well  content  with  my  other 

197 


ST.  IVES 

nephew,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte :  he  has  not  been  respect- 
ful, which  is  the  flattery  due  to  age.  And  there  are 
other  matters." 

I  was  half  tempted  to  throw  back  in  his  face  that  in- 
heritance so  coldly  offered.  At  the  same  time  I  had  to 
consider  that  he  was  an  old  man,  and,  after  all,  my  re- 
lation; and  that  1  was  a  poor  one,  in  considerable  straits, 
with  a  hope  at  heart  which  that  inheritance  might  yet 
enable  me  to  realise.  Nor  could  I  forget  that,  however 
icy  his  manners,  he  had  behaved  to  me  from  the  first 
with  the  extreme  of  liberality  and— I  was  about  to  write, 
kindness,  but  the  word,  in  that  connection,  would  not 
come.  1  really  owed  the  man  some  measure  of  grati- 
tude, which  it  would  be  an  ill  manner  to  repay  if  I  were 
to  insult  him  on  his  death-bed. 

"  Your  will,  monsieur,  must  ever  be  my  rule,"  said  I, 
bowing. 

"You  have  wit,  monsieur  mon  neveu,"  said  he,  "the 
best  wit— the  wit  of  silence.  Many  might  have  deaf- 
ened me  with  their  gratitude.  Gratitude!  "  he  repeated, 
with  a  peculiar  intonation,  and  lay  and  smiled  to  him- 
self. "  But  to  approach  what  is  more  important.  As 
a  prisoner  of  war,  will  it  be  possible  for  you  to  be  served 
heir  to  English  estates  ?  1  have  no  idea :  long  as  I  have 
dwelt  in  England,  I  have  never  studied  what  they  call 
their  laws.  On  the  other  hand,  how  if  Romaine  should 
come  too  late  ?  I  have  two  pieces  of  business  to  be 
transacted— to  die,  and  to  make  my  will;  and,  however 
desirous  I  may  be  to  serve  you,  I  cannot  postpone  the 
first  in  favour  of  the  second  beyond  a  very  few  hours." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  must  then  contrive  to  be  doing  as  I  did 
before,"  said  I. 

198 


THE   DESPATCH-BOX 

"Not  SO,"  said  the  Count.  "I  have  an  alternative, 
I  have  just  drawn  my  balance  at  my  banker's,  a  consid- 
erable sum,  and  I  am  now  to  place  it  in  your  hands.  It 
will  be  so  much  for  you  and  so  much  less—"  he  paused, 
and  smiled  with  an  air  of  malignity  that  surprised  me. 
"  But  it  is  necessary  it  should  be  done  before  witnesses. 
Monsieur  le  Vicomte  is  of  a  particular  disposition,  and 
an  unwitnessed  donation  may  very  easily  be  twisted  into 
a  theft." 

He  touched  a  bell,  which  was  answered  by  a  man 
having  the  appearance  of  a  confidential  valet.  To  him 
he  gave  a  key. 

"  Bring  me  the  despatch-box  that  came  yesterday,  La 
Ferriere,"  said  he.  "  You  will  at  the  same  time  present 
my  compliments  to  Dr.  Hunter  and  M.  I'Abbe,  and  re- 
quest them  to  step  for  a  few  moments  to  my  room." 

The  despatch-box  proved  to  be  rather  a  bulky  piece 
of  baggage,  covered  with  Russia  leather.  Before  the 
doctor  and  an  excellent  old  smiling  priest  it  was  passed 
over  into  my  hands  with  a  very  clear  statement  of  the 
disposer's  wishes ;  immediately  after  which,  though  the 
witnesses  remained  behind  to  draw  up  and  sign  a  joint 
note  of  the  transaction,  M.  de  Keroual  dismissed  me  to 
my  own  room.  La  Ferriere  following  with  the  invalu- 
able box. 

At  my  chamber  door  I  took  it  from  him  with  thanks, 
and  entered  alone.  Everything  had  been  already  dis- 
posed for  the  night,  the  curtains  drawn  and  the  fire 
trimmed;  and  Rowley  was  still  busy  with  my  bed- 
clothes. He  turned  round  as  I  entered  with  a  look  of 
welcome  that  did  my  heart  good.  Indeed,  I  had  never 
a  much  greater  need  of  human  sympathy,  however  triv- 

199 


ST.  IVES 

iai,  than  at  that  moment  when  I  held  a  fortune  in 
my  arms.  In  my  uncle's  room  I  had  breathed  the  very 
atmosphere  of  disenchantment.  He  had  gorged  my 
pockets ;  he  had  starved  every  dignified  or  affectionate 
sentiment  of  a  man.  I  had  received  so  chilling  an  im- 
pression of  age  and  experience  that  the  mere  look  of 
youth  drew  me  to  confide  in  Rowley:  he  was  only  a 
boy,  his  heart  must  beat  yet,  he  must  still  retain  some 
innocence  and  natural  feelings,  he  could  blurt  out  follies 
with  his  mouth,  he  was  not  a  machine  to  utter  perfect 
speech !  At  the  same  time,  I  was  beginning  to  outgrow 
the  painful  impressions  of  my  interview;  my  spirits 
were  beginning  to  revive;  and  at  the  jolly,  empty  looks 
of  Mr.  Rowley,  as  he  ran  forward  to  relieve  me  of  the 
box,  St.  Ives  became  himself  again. 

"Now,  Rowley,  don't  be  in  a  hurry,"  said  I.  "This 
is  a  momentous  juncture.  Man  and  boy,  you  have  been 
in  my  service  about  three  hours.  You  must  already 
have  observed  that  1  am  a  gentleman  of  a  somewhat 
morose  disposition,  and  there  is  nothing  that  I  more 
dislike  than  the  smallest  appearance  of  familiarity.  Mr. 
Pole  or  Mr.  Fowl,  probably  in  the  spirit  of  prophecy, 
warned  you  against  this  danger." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Anne,"  said  Rowley  blankly. 

"  Now  there  has  just  arisen  one  of  those  rare  cases 
in  which  I  am  willing  to  depart  from  my  principles. 
My  uncle  has  given  me  a  box— what  you  would  call  a 
Christmas  box.  I  don't  know  what's  in  it,  and  no  more 
do  you:  perhaps  I  am  an  April  fool,  or  perhaps  I  am 
already  enormously  wealthy;  there  might  be  five  hun- 
dred pounds  in  this  apparently  harmless  receptacle!  " 

"Lord,  Mr.  Anne!  "  cried  Rowley. 

200 


THE  DESPATCH-BOX 

"  Now,  Rowley,  hold  up  your  right  hand  and  repeat 
the  words  of  the  oath  after  me,"  said  I,  laying  the  des- 
patch-box on  the  table.  "  Strike  me  blue  if  I  ever  dis- 
close to  Mr.  Fowl,  or  Mr.  Fowl's  Viscount,  or  anything 
that  is  Mr.  Fowl's,  not  to  mention  Mr.  Dawson  and  the 
doctor,  the  treasures  of  the  following  despatch-box ;  and 
strike  me  sky-blue  scarlet  if  I  do  not  continually  main- 
tain, uphold,  love,  honour  and  obey,  serve,  and  follow 
to  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  and  the  waters  that  are 
under  the  earth,  the  hereinafter  before-mentioned  (only 
that  I  find  I  have  neglected  to  mention  him)  Viscount 
Anne  de  Keroual  de  Saint-Yves,  commonly  known  as 
Mr.  Rowley's  Viscount.     So  be  it.     Amen." 

He  took  the  oath  with  the  same  exaggerated  serious- 
ness as  I  gave  it  to  him. 

"Now,"  said  I.  "Here  is  the  key  for  you;  I  will 
hold  the  lid  with  both  hands  in  the  meanwhile."  He 
turned  the  key.  "  Bring  up  all  the  candles  in  the  room, 
and  range  them  alongside.  What  is  it  to  be  ?  A  live 
gorgon,  a  Jack-in-the-box,  or  a  spring  that  fires  a  pistol  ? 
On  your  knees,  sir,  before  the  prodigy!" 

So  saying,  I  turned  the  despatch-box  upside  down 
upon  the  table.  At  sight  of  the  heap  of  bank  paper  and 
gold  that  lay  in  front  of  us,  between  the  candles,  or 
rolled  upon  the  floor  alongside,  I  stood  astonished. 

"O  Lord!"  cried  Mr.  Rowley;  "O  Lordy,  Lordy, 
Lord!  "  and  he  scrambled  after  the  fallen  guineas.  "  O 
my,  Mr.  Anne!  what  a  sight  o'  money!  Why,  it's  like 
a  blessed  story-book.     It's  like  the  Forty  Thieves." 

"Now,  Rowley,  let's  be  cool,  let's  be  businesslike," 
said  L  "  Riches  are  deceitful,  particularly  when  you 
haven't  counted  them ;  and  the  first  thing  we  have  to  do 

201 


ST.  IVES 

is  to  arrive  at  the  amount  of  my— let  me  say,  modest 
competency.  If  I'm  not  mistaken,  I  have  enough  here 
to  keep  you  in  gold  buttons  all  the  rest  of  your  life. 
You  collect  the  gold,  and  I'll  take  the  paper." 

Accordingly,  down  we  sat  together  on  the  hearth-rug, 
and  for  some  time  there  was  no  sound  but  the  creasing 
of  bills  and  the  jingling  of  guineas,  broken  occasionally 
by  the  exulting  exclamations  of  Rowley.  The  arith- 
metical operation  on  which  we  were  embarked  took 
long,  and  it  might  have  been  tedious  to  others ;  not  to 
me  nor  to  my  helper. 

"Ten  thousand  pounds!  "  I  announced  at  last. 

"Ten  thousand!  "  echoed  Mr.  Rowley. 

And  we  gazed  upon  each  other. 

The  greatness  of  this  fortune  took  my  breath  away. 
With  that  sum  in  my  hands,  I  need  fear  no  enemies. 
People  are  arrested,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  not  because 
the  police  are  astute,  but  because  they  themselves  run 
short  of  money;  and  I  had  here  before  me  in  the  des- 
patch-box a  succession  of  devices  and  disguises  that 
insured  my  liberty.  Not  only  so;  but,  as  I  felt  with 
a  sudden  and  overpowering  thrill,  with  ten  thousand 
pounds  in  my  hands  I  was  become  an  eligible  suitor. 
What  advances  I  had  made  in  the  past,  as  a  private  sol- 
dier in  a  military  prison,  or  a  fugitive  by  the  wayside, 
could  only  be  qualified  or,  indeed,  excused  as  acts  of 
desperation.  And  now,  I  might  come  in  by  the  front 
door;  I  might  approach  the  dragon  with  a  lawyer  at  my 
elbow,  and  rich  settlements  to  offer.  The  poor  French 
prisoner,  Champdivers,  might  be  in  a  perpetual  danger 
of  arrest;  but  the  rich  travelling  Englishman,  St.  Ives, 
in  his  post-chaise,  with  his  despatch-box  by  his  side. 


THE   DESPATCH-BOX 

could  smile  at  fate  and  laugh  at  locksmiths.     I  repeated 
the  proverb,  exulting,  Love  laughs  at  locksmiths!    In  a 
moment,  by  the  mere  coming  of  this  money,  my  love 
had  become  possible— it  had  come  near,  it  was  under 
my  hand— and  it  may  be  by  one  of  the  curiosities  of 
human  nature,  but  it  burned  that  instant  brighter. 
"  Rowley,"  said  I,  "your  Viscount  is  a  made  man.** 
"Why,  we  both  are,  sir,"  said  Rowley. 
"  Yes,  both,"  said  I ;  "  and  you  shall  dance  at  the  wed- 
ding " ;  and  I  flung  at  his  head  a  bundle  of  bank  notes, 
and  had  just  followed  it  up  with  a  handful  of  guineas, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Romaine  appeared  upon 
the  threshold. 


ip) 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

MR.  ROMAINE   CALLS   ME   NAMES 

Feeling  very  much  of  a  fool  to  be  thus  taken  by  sur- 
prise, I  scrambled  to  my  feet  and  hastened  to  make  my 
visitor  welcome.  He  did  not  refuse  me  his  hand ;  but 
he  gave  it  with  a  coldness  and  distance  for  which  I  was 
quite  unprepared,  and  his  countenance,  as  he  looked  on 
me,  was  marked  in  a  strong  degree  with  concern  and 
severity. 

"  So,  sir,  I  find  you  here  ?  "  said  he,  in  tones  of  little 
encouragement.  "  Is  that  you,  George  ?  You  can  run 
away;  I  have  business  with  your  master." 

He  showed  Rowley  out,  and  locked  the  door  behind 
him.  Then  he  sat  down  in  an  arm-chair  on  one  side  of 
the  fire,  and  looked  at  me  with  uncompromising  stern- 
ness. 

"I  am  hesitating  how  to  begin,"  said  he.  "In  this 
singular  labyrinth  of  blunders  and  difficulties  that  you 
have  prepared  for  us,  I  am  positively  hesitating  where 
to  begin.  It  will  perhaps  be  best  that  you  should  read, 
first  of  all,  this  paragraph."  And  he  handed  over  to  me 
a  newspaper. 

The  paragraph  in  question  was  brief.  It  announced 
the  recapture  of  one  of  the  prisoners  recently  escaped 

:«C4 


MR.  ROMAINE  CALLS  ME  NAMES 

from  Edinburgh  Castle;  gave  his  name,  Clausel,  and 
added  that  he  had  entered  into  the  particulars  of  the 
recent  revolting  murder  in  the  castle,  and  denounced 
the  murderer:  — 

"  It  is  a  common  soldier  called  Champdivers,  who  had 
himself  escaped,  and  is  in  all  probability  involved  in  the 
common  fate  of  his  comrades.  In  spite  of  the  activity 
along  all  the  Forth  and  the  East  Coast,  nothing  has 
yet  been  seen  of  the  sloop  which  these  desperadoes 
seized  at  Grangemouth,  and  it  is  now  almost  certain  that 
they  have  found  a  watery  grave." 

At  the  reading  of  this  paragraph  my  heart  turned  over. 
In  a  moment  I  saw  my  castle  in  the  air  ruined ;  myself 
changed  from  a  mere  military  fugitive  into  a  hunted 
murderer,  fleeing  from  the  gallows ;  my  love,  which  had 
a  moment  since  appeared  so  near  to  me,  blotted  from 
the  field  of  possibility.  Despair,  which  was  my  first 
sentiment,  did  not,  however,  endure  for  more  than  a 
moment.  I  saw  that  my  companions  had  indeed  suc- 
ceeded in  their  unlikely  design ;  and  that  I  was  supposed 
to  have  accompanied  and  perished  along  with  them  by 
shipwreck— a  most  probable  ending  to  their  enterprise. 
If  they  thought  me  at  the  bottom  of  the  North  Sea,  I 
need  not  fear  much  vigilance  on  the  streets  of  Edinburgh. 
Champdivers  was  wanted:  what  was  to  connect  him 
with  St.  Ives  ?  Major  Chevenix  would  recognise  me  if 
he  met  me;  that  was  beyond  bargaining:  he  had  seen 
me  so  often,  his  interest  had  been  kindled  to  so  high  a 
point,  that  I  could  hope  to  deceive  him  by  no  stratagem 
of  disguise.  Well,  even  so;  he  would  have  a  competi- 
tion of  testimony  before  him :  he  knew  Clausel,  he  knew 
me,  and  I  was  sure  he  would  decide  for  honour.     At  the 

205 


ST.  IVES 

same  time,  the  image  of  Flora  shot  up  in  my  mind's  eye 
with  such  a  radiancy  as  fairly  overwhelmed  all  other 
considerations ;  the  blood  sprang  to  every  corner  of  my 
body,  and  I  vowed  I  would  see  and  win  her,  if  it  cost 
my  neck. 

"  Very  annoying,  no  doubt,"  said  I,  as  I  returned  the 
paper  to  Mr.  Romaine. 

"  Is  annoying  your  word  for  it  ?  "  said  he. 

"Exasperating,  if  you  like,"  I  admitted. 

"  And  true  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Well,  true  in  a  sense,"  said  I.  "  But  perhaps  I  had 
better  answer  that  question  by  putting  you  in  possession 
of  the  facts  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,  indeed,"  said  he. 

I  narrated  to  him  as  much  as  seemed  necessary  of  the 
quarrel,  the  duel,  the  death  of  Goguelat,  and  the  charac- 
ter of  Clausel.  He  heard  me  through  in  a  forbidding 
silence,  nor  did  he  at  all  betray  the  nature  of  his  senti- 
ments, except  that,  at  the  episode  of  the  scissors,  I  could 
observe  his  mulberry  face  to  turn  three  shades  paler. 

"  I  suppose  I  may  believe  you  ?  "  said  he,  when  I  had 
done. 

"  Or  else  conclude  this  interview,"  said  I. 

"  Can  you  not  understand  that  we  are  here  discussing 
matters  of  the  gravest  import  ?  Can  you  not  understand 
that  I  feel  myself  weighed  with  a  load  of  responsibility 
on  your  account— that  you  should  take  this  occasion  to 
air  your  fire-eating  manners  against  your  own  attorney  ? 
There  are  serious  hours  in  life,  Mr.  Anne,"  he  said  se- 
verely. "  A  capital  charge,  and  that  of  a  very  brutal 
character  and  with  singularly  unpleasant  details;  the 
presence  of  the  man  Clausel,  who  (according  to  your 


MR.  ROMAINE  CALLS  ME  NAMES 

account  of  it)  is  actuated  by  sentiments  of  real  malig- 
nity, and  prepared  to  swear  black  white;  all  the  other 
witnesses  scattered  and  perhaps  drowned  at  sea;  the 
natural  prejudice  against  a  Frenchman  and  a  runaway 
prisoner:  this  makes  a  serious  total  for  your  lawyer  to 
consider,  and  is  by  no  means  lessened  by  the  incurable 
folly  and  levity  of  your  own  disposition." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon!  "  said  I. 

"  O,  my  expressions  have  been  selected  with  scrupu- 
lous accuracy,"  he  replied.  "  How  did  I  find  you,  sir, 
when  I  came  to  announce  this  catastrophe .?  You  were 
sitting  on  the  hearth-rug  playing,  like  a  silly  baby,  with 
a  servant,  were  you  not,  and  the  floor  all  scattered  with 
gold  and  bank  paper  ?  There  was  a  tableau  for  you ! 
It  was  I  who  came,  and  you  were  lucky  in  that.  It 
might  have  been  any  one— your  cousin  as  well  as 
another." 

"You  have  me  there,  sir,"  I  admitted.  **  I  had  neg- 
lected all  precautions,  and  you  do  right  to  be  angry. 
Apropos,  Mr.  Romaine,  how  did  you  come  yourself,  and 
how  long  have  you  been  in  the  house  }  "  I  added,  sur- 
prised, on  the  retrospect,  not  to  have  heard  him  arrive. 

"I  drove  up  in  a  chaise  and  pair,"  he  returned. 
"Any  one  might  have  heard  me.  But  you  were  not 
listening,  I  suppose  }  being  so  extremely  at  your  ease 
in  the  very  house  of  your  enemy,  and  under  a  capital 
charge!  And  I  have  been  long  enough  here  to  do  your 
business  for  you.  Ah,  yes,  I  did  it,  God  forgive  me! 
—did  it  before  I  so  much  as  asked  you  the  explanation 
of  the  paragraph.  For  some  time  back  the  will  has  been 
prepared;  now  it  is  signed;  and  your  uncle  has  heard 
nothing  of  your  recent  piece  of  activity.    Why  ?    Well, 

207 


ST.  IVES 

I  had  no  fancy  to  bother  him  on  his  death-bed :  you  might 
be  innocent;  and  at  bottom  I  preferred  the  murderer 
to  the  spy." 

No  doubt  of  it  but  the  man  played  a  friendly  part;  no 
doubt  also  that,  in  his  ill-temper  and  anxiety,  he  ex- 
pressed himself  unpalatably. 

"You  will  perhaps  find  me  over-delicate,"  said  I. 
"  There  is  a  word  you  employed—" 

"I  employ  the  words  of  my  brief,  sir,"  he  cried, 
striking  with  his  hand  on  the  newspaper.  "  It  is  there 
in  six  letters.  And  do  not  be  so  certain— you  have  not 
stood  your  trial  yet.  It  is  an  ugly  affair,  a  fishy  business. 
It  is  highly  disagreeable.  I  would  give  my  hand  off— 
I  mean  I  would  give  a  hundred  pound  down,  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  And,  situated  as  we  are,  we 
must  at  once  take  action.  There  is  here  no  choice. 
You  must  first  of  all  quit  this  country,  and  get  to  France, 
or  Holland,  or,  indeed,  to  Madagascar." 

"  There  may  be  two  words  to  that,"  said  I. 

"  Not  so  much  as  one  syllable!  "  he  retorted.  "  Here 
is  no  room  for  argument.  The  case  is  nakedly  plain. 
In  the  disgusting  position  in  which  you  have  found 
means  to  place  yourself,  all  that  is  to  be  hoped  for  is 
delay.  A  time  may  come  when  we  shall  be  able  to  do 
better.     It  cannot  be  now :  now  it  would  be  the  gibbet. " 

"  You  labour  under  a  false  impression,  Mr.  Romaine," 
said  I.  "  I  have  no  impatience  to  figure  in  the  dock.  1 
am  even  as  anxious  as  yourself  to  postpone  my  first 
appearance  there.  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  not  the 
slightest  intention  of  leaving  this  country,  where  I  please 
myself  extremely.  I  have  a  good  address,  a  ready 
tongue,  an  English  accent  that  passes,  and,  thanks  to  the 

208 


MR.  ROMAINE   CALLS  ME  NAMES 

generosity  of  my  uncle,  as  much  money  as  I  want.  It 
would  be  hard  indeed  if,  with  all  these  advantages,  Mr. 
St.  Ives  should  not  be  able  to  live  quietly  in  a  private 
lodging,  while  the  authorities  amuse  themselves  by  look- 
ing for  Champdivers.  You  forget,  there  is  no  connec- 
tion between  these  two  personages." 

"And  you  forget  your  cousin,"  retorted  Romaine. 
"  There  is  the  link.  There  is  the  tongue  of  the  buckle. 
He  knows  you  are  Champdivers."  He  put  up  his  hand 
as  if  to  listen.  "  And,  for  a  wager,  here  he  is  himself!  " 
he  exclaimed. 

As  when  a  tailor  takes  a  piece  of  goods  upon  his 
counter,  and  rends  it  across,  there  came  to  our  ears  from 
the  avenue  the  long  tearing  sound  of  a  chaise  and  four 
approaching  at  the  top  speed  of  the  horses.  And,  look- 
ing out  between  the  curtains,  we  beheld  the  lamps 
skimming  on  the  smooth  ascent. 

"Ay,"  said  Romaine,  wiping  the  window-pane  that 
he  might  see  more  clearly.  "Ay,  that  is  he,  by  the 
driving!  So  he  squanders  money  along  the  king's 
highway,  the  triple  idiot!  gorging  every  man  he  meets 
with  gold  for  the  pleasure  of  arriving— where  ?  Ah, 
yes,  where  but  a  debtor's  jail,  if  not  a  criminal  prison!" 

"  Is  he  that  kind  of  a  man  ?  "  I  asked,  staring  on  these 
lamps  as  though  I  could  decipher  in  them  the  secret  of 
my  cousin's  character. 

"You  will  find  him  a  dangerous  kind,"  answered  the 
lawyer.  "  For  you,  these  are  the  lights  on  a  lee  shore ! 
I  find  I  fall  in  a  muse  when  I  consider  of  him ;  what  a 
formidable  being  he  once  was,  and  what  a  personable! 
and  how  near  he  draws  to  the  moment  that  must  break 
him  utterly!     We  none  of  us  like  him  here;  we  hate 

209 


ST.  IVES 

him,  rather;  and  yet  I  have  a  sense— I  don't  think  at 
my  time  of  life  it  can  be  pity— but  a  reluctance  rather, 
to  break  anything  so  big  and  figurative,  as  though  he 
were  a  big  porcelain  pot  or  a  big  picture  of  high  price. 
Ay,  there  is  what  I  was  waiting  for!  "  he  cried,  as  the 
lights  of  a  second  chaise  swam  in  sight.  It  is  he 
beyond  a  doubt.  The  first  was  the  signature  and  the 
next  the  flourish.  Two  chaises,  the  second  following 
with  the  baggage,  which  is  always  copious  and  pon- 
derous, and  one  of  his  valets:  he  cannot  go  a  step 
without  a  valet." 

"I  hear  you  repeat  the  word  big,"  said  I.  "But  it 
cannot  be  that  he  is  anything  out  of  the  way  in  stature." 

"No,"  said  the  attorney.  "About  your  height,  as  I 
guessed  for  the  tailors,  and  I  see  nothing  wrong  with 
the  result.  But,  somehow,  he  commands  an  atmo- 
sphere; he  has  a  spacious  manner;  and  he  has  kept  up, 
all  through  life,  such  a  volume  of  racket  about  his  person- 
ality, with  his  chaises  and  his  racers  and  his  dicings,  and 
I  know  not  what— that  somehow  he  imposes !  It  seems, 
when  the  farce  is  done,  and  he  locked  in  the  Fleet  prison 
—and  nobody  left  but  Buonaparte  and  Lord  Wellington 
and  the  Hetman  PlatofT  to  make  a  work  about— the 
world  will  be  in  a  comparison  quite  tranquil.  But  this 
is  beside  the  mark,"  he  added,  with  an  effort,  turning 
again  from  the  window.  "  We  are  now  under  fire,  Mr. 
Anne,  as  you  soldiers  would  say,  and  it  is  high  time  we 
should  prepare  to  go  into  action.  He  must  not  see  you ; 
that  would  be  fatal.  All  that  he  knows  at  present  is  that 
you  resemble  him,  and  that  is  much  more  than  enough. 
If  it  were  possible,  it  would  be  well  he  should  not  know 
you  were  in  the  house." 

210 


MR.  ROMAINE   CALLS  ME  NAMES 

"Quite  impossible,  depend  upon  it,"  said  I.  "Some 
of  the  servants  are  directly  in  his  interests,  perhaps  in 
his  pay:  Dawson,  for  an  example." 

"  My  own  idea!  "  cried  Romaine.  "  And  at  least,"  he 
added,  as  the  first  of  the  chaises  drew  up  with  a  dash  in 
front  of  the  portico,  "  it  is  now  too  late.     Here  he  is." 

We  stood  listening,  with  a  strange  anxiety,  to  the 
various  noises  that  awoke  in  the  silent  house:  the  sound 
of  doors  opening  and  closing,  the  sound  of  feet  near  at 
hand  and  farther  off.  It  was  plain  the  arrival  of  my 
cousin  was  a  matter  of  moment,  almost  of  parade,  to 
the  household.  And  suddenly,  out  of  this  confused  and 
distant  bustle,  a  rapid  and  light  tread  became  distin- 
guishable. We  heard  it  come  up-stairs,  draw  near  along 
the  corridor,  pause  at  the  door,  and  a  stealthy  and  hasty 
rapping  succeeded. 

"Mr.  Anne— Mr.  Anne,  sir!  Let  me  in!  "  said  the 
voice  of  Rowley. 

We  admitted  the  lad,  and  locked  the  door  again  be- 
hind him. 

"  It's  bim,  sir,"  he  panted.     "  He've  come." 

"  You  mean  the  Viscount  ?  "  said  I.  "  So  we  sup- 
posed. But  come,  Rowley— out  with  the  rest  of  it! 
You  have  more  to  tell  us,  or  your  face  belies  you!  " 

"  Mr.  Anne,  I  do, "  he  said.  "  Mr.  Romaine,  sir,  you're 
a  friend  of  his,  ain't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  George,  I  am  a  friend  of  his, "said  Romaine,  and, 
to  my  great  surprise,  laid  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder. 

"  Well,  it's  this  way,"  said  Rowley—"  Mr.  Fowl  have 
been  at  me!  It's  to  play  the  spy!  I  thought  he  was  at 
it  from  the  first!  From  the  first  I  see  what  he  was  after 
—coming  round  and  round,  and  hinting  things!     But 

211 


ST.  IVES 

to-night  he  outs  with  it  plump!  I'm  to  let  him  hear  all 
what  you're  to  do  beforehand,  he  says;  and  he  give  me 
this  for  an  arnest"— holding  up  half  a  guinea;  "and  I 
took  it,  so  I  did!  Strike  me  sky-blue  scarlet!  "  says  he, 
adducing  the  words  of  the  mock  oath;  and  he  looked 
askance  at  me  as  he  did  so. 

I  saw  that  he  had  forgotten  himself,  and  that  he  knew 
it.  The  expression  of  his  eye  changed  almost  in  the 
passing  of  the  glance  from  the  significant  to  the  appeal- 
ing—from the  look  of  an  accomplice  to  that  of  a  culprit; 
and  from  that  moment  he  became  the  model  of  a  well- 
drilled  valet. 

"  Sky-blue  scarlet  ?  "  repeated  the  lawyer.  "  Is  the 
fool  delirious  ?  " 

"No,"  said  I;  "he  is  only  reminding  me  of  some- 
thing." 

"  Well— and  I  believe  the  fellow  will  be  faithful,"  said 
Romaine.  "  So  you  are  a  friend  of  Mr.  Anne's,  too  ?  " 
he  added  to  Rowley. 

"If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Rowley. 

"'Tis  something  sudden,"  observed  Romaine;  "but 
it  may  be  genuine  enough.  I  believe  him  to  be  honest. 
He  comes  of  honest  people.  Well,  George  Rowley,  you 
might  embrace  some  early  opportunity  to  earn  that  half- 
guinea,  by  telling  Mr.  Fowl  that  your  master  will  not 
leave  here  till  noon  to-morrow,  if  he  go  even  then.  Teli 
him  there  are  a  hundred  things  to  be  done  here,  and  a 
hundred  more  that  can  only  be  done  properly  at  my 
office  in  Holborn.  Come  to  think  of  it— we  had  better 
see  to  that  first  of  all,"  he  went  on,  unlocking  the  door. 
"  Get  hold  of  Fowl,  and  see.  And  be  quick  back,  and 
clear  me  up  this  mess." 

312 


MR.  ROMAINE   CALLS   ME  NAMES 

Mr.  Rowley  was  no  sooner  gone  than  the  lawyer  took 
a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  regarded  me  with  somewhat  of  a 
more  genial  expression. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  it  is  very  fortunate  for  you  that  your 
face  is  so  strong  a  letter  of  recommendation.  Here  am 
I,  a  tough  old  practitioner,  mixing  myself  up  with  your 
very  distressing  business ;  and  here  is  this  farmer's  lad, 
who  has  the  wit  to  take  a  bribe  and  the  loyalty  to  come 
and  tell  you  of  it— all,  I  take  it,  on  the  strength  of  your 
appearance.  I  wish  I  could  imagine  how  it  would  im- 
press a  jury !  "  says  he. 

"  And  how  it  would  affect  the  hangman,  sir  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"Absit  omen  !  "  said  Mr.  Romaine  devoutly. 

We  were  just  so  far  in  our  talk,  when  I  heard  a  sound 
that  brought  my  heart  into  my  mouth :  the  sound  of 
some  one  slyly  trying  the  handle  of  the  door.  It  had 
been  preceded  by  no  audible  footstep.  Since  the  de- 
parture of  Rowley  our  wing  of  the  house  had  been 
entirely  silent.  And  we  had  every  right  to  suppose 
ourselves  alone,  and  to  conclude  that  the  new-comer, 
whoever  he  might  be,  was  come  on  a  clandestine,  if  not 
a  hostile,  errand. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  asked  Romaine. 

"It's  only  me,  sir,"  said  the  soft  voice  of  Dawson. 
"  It's  the  Viscount,  sir.  He  is  very  desirous  to  speak 
with  you  on  business." 

"Tell  him  I  shall  come  shortly,  Dawson,"  said  the 
lawyer.     "  I  am  at  present  engaged." 

"Thank  you,  sir!  "  said  Dawson. 

And  we  heard  his  feet  draw  off  slowly  along  the  cor- 
ridor. 

213 


ST.  IVES 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Romaine,  speaking  low,  and  main- 
taining the  attitude  of  one  intently  listening,  "  there  is 
another  foot.     I  cannot  be  deceived !  " 

"I  think  there  was  indeed!"  said  I.  "And  what 
troubles  me— I  am  not  sure  that  the  other  has  gone  en- 
tirely away.  By  the  time  it  got  the  length  of  the  head 
of  the  stair  the  tread  was  plainly  single." 

"  Ahem— blockaded  ?  "  asked  the  lawyer. 

"  A  siege  en  regie .' "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Let  us  come  farther  from  the  door,"  said  Romaine, 
"and  reconsider  this  damnable  position.  Without 
doubt,  Alain  was  this  moment  at  the  door.  He  hoped 
to  enter  and  get  a  view  of  you,  as  if  by  accident.  Baf- 
fled in  this,  has  he  stayed  himself,  or  has  he  planted 
Dawson  here  by  way  of  sentinel  ?  " 

"Himself,  beyond  a  doubt,"  said  I.  "And  yet  to 
what  end  ?     He  cannot  think  to  pass  the  night  there!  " 

"  If  it  were  only  possible  to  pay  no  heed!  "  said  Mr. 
Romaine.  "  But  this  is  the  accursed  drawback  of  your 
position.  We  can  do  nothing  openly.  I  must  smuggle 
you  out  of  this  room  and  out  of  this  house  like  seizable 
goods;  and  how  am  I  to  set  about  it  with  a  sentinel 
planted  at  your  very  door  ?  " 

"There  is  no  good  in  being  agitated,"  said  I. 

" None  at  all,"  he  acquiesced.  "  And,  come  to  think 
of  it,  it  is  droll  enough  that  I  should  have  been  that 
very  moment  commenting  on  your  personal  appearance, 
when  your  cousin  came  upon  this  mission.  I  was  say- 
ing, if  you  remember,  that  your  face  was  as  good  or 
better  than  a  letter  of  recommendation.  I  wonder  if  M. 
Alain  would  be  like  the  rest  of  us— I  wonder  what  he 
would  think  of  it  ?  " 

ai4 


MR.  ROMAINE  CALLS   ME  NAMES 

Mr.  Romaine  was  sitting  in  a  chair  by  the  fire  with 
his  back  to  the  windows,  and  I  was  myself  kneeling  on 
the  hearth-rug  and  beginning  mechanically  to  pick  up  the 
scattered  bills,  when  a  honeyed  voice  joined  suddenly 
in  our  conversation. 

"  He  thinks  well  of  it,  Mr.  Romaine.  He  begs  to  join 
himself  to  that  circle  of  admirers  which  you  indicate  to 
exist  already." 


m 


CHAPTER  XrX 

THE   DEVIL   AND   ALL   AT   AMERSHAM    PLACE 

Never  did  two  human  creatures  get  to  their  feet  with 
more  alacrity  than  the  lawyer  and  myself.  We  had 
locked  and  barred  the  main  gates  of  the  citadel ;  but  un- 
happily we  had  left  open  the  bath-room  sally-port;  and 
here  we  found  the  voice  of  the  hostile  trumpets  sound- 
ing from  within,  and  all  our  defences  taken  in  reverse. 
I  took  but  the  time  to  whisper  Mr.  Romaine  in  the  ear: 
"  Here  is  another  tableau  for  you!  "  at  which  he  looked 
at  me  a  moment  with  a  kind  of  pathos,  as  who  should 
say,  "  Don't  hit  a  man  when  he's  down."  Then  1  trans- 
ferred my  eyes  to  my  enemy. 

He  had  his  hat  on,  a  little  on  one  side:  it  was  a  very 
tall  hat,  raked  extremely,  and  had  a  narrow  curling  brim. 
His  hair  was  all  curled  out  in  masses  like  an  Italian 
mountebank— a  most  unpardonable  fashion.  He  sported 
a  huge  tippeted  overcoat  of  frieze,  such  as  watchmen 
wear,  only  the  inside  was  lined  with  costly  furs,  and  he 
kept  it  half  open  to  display  the  exquisite  linen,  the  many- 
coloured  waistcoat,  and  the  profuse  jewellery  of  watch- 
chains  and  brooches  underneath.  The  leg  and  the  ankle 
were  turned  to  a  miracle.  It  is  out  of  the  question  that 
J  should  deny  the  resemblance  altogether,  since  it  has 

2\6 


THE   DEVIL  AND  ALL  AT  AMERSHAM   PLACE 

been  remarked  by  so  many  different  persons  whom  I 
cannot  reasonably  accuse  of  a  conspiracy.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  saw  little  of  it  and  confessed  to  nothing.  Cer- 
tainly he  was  what  some  might  call  handsome,  of  a  pic- 
torial, exuberant  style  of  beauty,  all  attitude,  profile,  and 
impudence:  a  man  whom  I  could  see  in  fancy  parade  on 
the  grand  stand  at  a  race-meeting,  or  swagger  in  Picca- 
dilly, staring  down  the  women,  and  stared  at  himself 
with  admiration  by  the  coal-porters.  Of  his  frame  of 
mind  at  that  moment  his  face  offered  a  lively  if  an  un- 
conscious picture.  He  was  lividly  pale,  and  his  lip  was 
caught  up  in  a  smile  that  could  almost  be  called  a  snarl, 
of  a  sheer,  arid  malignity  that  appalled  me  and  yet  put 
me  on  my  mettle  for  the  encounter.  He  looked  me  up 
and  down,  then  bowed  and  took  off  his  hat  to  me. 

"  My  cousin,  I  presume  ?  "  he  said. 

"I  understand  I  have  that  honour,"  I  replied. 

"The  honour  is  mine,"  said  he,  and  his  voice  shook 
as  he  said  it. 

"  I  should  make  you  welcome,  I  believe,"  said  L 

"  Why  ?  "  he  inquired.  "  This  poor  house  has  been 
my  home  for  longer  than  I  care  to  claim.  That  you 
should  already  take  upon  yourself  the  duties  of  host  here 
is  to  be  at  unnecessary  pains.  Believe  me,  that  part 
would  be  more  becomingly  mine.  And,  by  the  way,  I 
must  not  fail  to  offer  you  my  little  compliment.  It  is  a 
gratifying  surprise  to  meet  you  in  the  dress  of  a  gentle- 
man, and  to  see"— with  a  circular  look  upon  the  scat- 
tered bills— "that  your  necessities  have  already  been  so 
liberally  relieved." 

I  bowed  with  a  smile  that  was  perhaps  no  less  hate- 
ful than  his  own. 

217 


ST.  IVES 

"  There  are  so  many  necessities  in  this  world,"  said  I. 
"  Charity  has  to  choose.  One  gets  relieved,  and  some 
other,  no  less  indigent,  perhaps  indebted,  must  go 
v^anting." 

"Malice  is  an  engaging  trait,"  said  he. 

"  And  envy,  I  think  ?  "  was  my  reply. 

He  must  have  felt  that  he  was  not  getting  wholly  the 
better  of  this  passage  at  arms ;  perhaps  even  feared  that 
he  should  lose  command  of  his  temper,  which  he  reined 
in  throughout  the  interview  as  with  a  red-hot  curb,  for 
he  flung  away  from  me  at  the  word,  and  addressed  the 
lawyer  with  insulting  arrogance. 

"  Mr.  Romaine,"  he  said,  "since  when  have  you  pre- 
sumed to  give  orders  in  this  house  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  admit  that  I  have  given  any," 
replied  Romaine;  "  certainly  none  that  did  not  fall  in  the 
sphere  of  my  responsibilities." 

"  By  whose  orders,  then,  am  I  denied  entrance  to  my 
uncle's  room  ?  "  said  my  cousin. 

"By  the  doctor's,  sir,"  replied  Romaine;  "and  I 
think  even  you  will  admit  his  faculty  to  give  them." 

"Have  a  care,  sir,"  cried  Alain.  "Do  not  be  puffed 
up  with  your  position.  It  is  none  so  secure.  Master 
Attorney.  I  should  not  wonder  in  the  least  if  you  were 
struck  off  the  rolls  for  this  night's  work,  and  the  next  I 
should  see  of  you  were  when  I  flung  you  alms  at  a  pot- 
house door  to  mend  your  ragged  elbows.  The  doctor's 
orders  ?  But  I  believe  I  am  not  mistaken !  You  have 
to-night  transacted  business  with  the  Count;  and  this 
needy  young  gentleman  has  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  still 
another  interview,  in  which  (as  I  am  pleased  to  see)  his 
dignity  has  not  prevented  his  doing  very  well  for  him- 

218 


THE  DEVIL  AND   ALL  AT  AMERSHAM   PLACE 

self.  I  wonder  that  you  should  care  to  prevaricate  with 
me  so  idly." 

"  I  will  confess  so  much,"  said  Mr.  Romaine,  "  if  you 
call  it  prevarication.  The  order  in  question  emanated 
from  the  Count  himself.    He  does  not  wish  to  see  you." 

"  For  which  1  must  take  the  word  of  Mr.  Daniel  Ro- 
maine ?  "  asked  Alain. 

"  In  default  of  any  better,"  said  Romaine. 

There  was  an  instantaneous  convulsion  in  my  cousin's 
face,  and  1  distinctly  heard  him  gnash  his  teeth  at  this 
reply;  but,  to  my  surprise,  he  resumed  in  tones  of  al- 
most good-humour: 

"  Come,  Mr.  Romaine,  do  not  let  us  be  petty!  "  He 
drew  in  a  chair  and  sat  down.  "  Understand  you  have 
stolen  a  march  upon  me.  You  have  introduced  your 
soldier  of  Napoleon,  and  (how,  I  cannot  conceive)  he 
has  been  apparently  accepted  with  favour.  I  ask  no 
better  proof  than  the  funds  with  which  1  find  him  liter- 
ally surrounded — I  presume  in  consequence  of  some  ex- 
travagance of  joy  at  the  first  sight  of  so  much  money. 
The  odds  are  so  far  in  your  favour,  but  the  match  is  not 
yet  won.  Questions  will  arise  of  undue  influence,  of 
sequestration,  and  the  like :  I  have  my  witnesses  ready. 
I  tell  it  you  cynically,  for  you  cannot  profit  by  the  know- 
ledge ;  and,  if  the  worst  come  to  the  worst,  I  have  good 
hopes  of  recovering  my  own  and  of  ruining  you." 

"  You  do  what  you  please,"  answered  Romaine;  "  but 
I  give  it  you  for  a  piece  of  good  advice,  you  had  best  do 
nothing  in  the  matter.  You  will  only  make  yourself 
ridiculous ;  you  will  only  squander  money,  of  which  you 
have  none  too  much,  and  reap  public  mortification." 

"  Ah,  but  there  you  make  the  common  mistake,  Mr. 
219 


ST.  IVES 

Romaine!  "  returned  Alain.  "  You  despise  your  adver- 
sary. Consider,  if  you  please,  how  very  disagreeable 
I  could  make  myself,  if  I  chose.  Consider  the  position 
of  your  protege— an  escaped  prisoner !  But  I  play  a  great 
game.     I  contemn  such  petty  opportunities." 

At  this  Romaine  and  I  exchanged  a  glance  of  triumph. 
It  seemed  manifest  that  Alain  had  as  yet  received  no 
word  of  Clausel's  recapture  and  denunciation.  At  the 
same  moment  the  lawyer,  thus  relieved  of  the  instancy 
of  his  fear,  changed  his  tactics.  With  a  great  air  of  un- 
concern, he  secured  the  newspaper,  which  still  lay  open 
before  him  on  the  table. 

"  I  think,  M.  Alain,  that  you  labour  under  some  illu- 
sion," said  he.  "Believe  me,  this  is  all  beside  the 
mark.  You  seem  to  be  pointing  to  some  compromise. 
Nothing  is  further  from  my  views.  You  suspect  me  of 
an  inclination  to  trifle  with  you,  to  conceal  how  things 
are  going.  1  cannot,  on  the  other  hand,  be  too  early  or 
too  explicit  in  giving  you  information  which  concerns 
you  (1  must  say)  capitally.  Your  great-uncle  has  to- 
night cancelled  his  will,  and  made  a  new  one  in  favour 
of  your  cousin  Anne.  Nay,  and  you  shall  hear  it  from 
his  own  lips,  if  you  choose!  I  will  take  so  much  upon 
me,"  said  the  lawyer,  rising.  "Follow  me,  if  you 
please,  gentlemen." 

Mr.  Romaine  led  the  way  out  of  the  room  so  briskly, 
and  was  so  briskly  followed  by  Alain,  that  I  had  hard 
ado  to  get  the  remainder  of  the  money  replaced  and  the 
despatch-box  locked,  and  to  overtake  them,  even  by 
running,  ere  they  should  be  lost  in  that  maze  of  corri- 
dors, my  uncle's  house.  As  it  was,  I  went  with  a  heart 
divided ;  and  the  thought  of  my  treasure  thus  left  un- 


THE   DEVIL  AND   ALL  AT  AMERSHAM   PLACE 

protected,  save  by  a  paltry  lid  and  lock  that  any  one 
might  break  or  pick  open,  put  me  in  a  perspiration 
whenever  I  had  the  time  to  remember  it.  The  lawyer 
brought  us  to  a  room,  begged  us  to  be  seated  while  he 
should  hold  a  consultation  with  the  doctor,  and,  slip- 
ping out  of  another  door,  left  Alain  and  myself  closeted 
together. 

Truly  he  had  done  nothing  to  ingratiate  himself;  his 
every  word  had  been  steeped  in  unfriendliness,  envy, 
and  that  contempt  which  (as  it  is  born  of  anger)  it  is 
possible  to  support  without  humiliation.  On  my  part, 
I  had  been  little  more  conciliating;  and  yet  I  began  to  be 
sorry  for  this  man,  hired  spy  as  I  knew  him  to  be.  It 
seemed  to  me  less  than  decent  that  he  should  have  been 
brought  up  in  the  expectation  of  this  great  inheritance, 
and  now,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  be  tumbled  forth  out  of 
the  house  door  and  left  to  himself,  his  poverty  and  his 
debts— those  debts  of  which  I  had  so  ungallantly  re- 
minded him  so  short  a  time  before.  And  we  were 
scarce  left  alone  ere  I  made  haste  to  hang  out  a  flag  of 
truce. 

"  My  cousin,"  said  I,  "  trust  me,  you  will  not  find  me 
inclined  to  be  your  enemy." 

He  paused  in  front  of  me— for  he  had  not  accepted 
the  lawyer's  invitation  to  be  seated,  but  walked  to  and 
fro  in  the  apartment— took  a  pinch  of  snufif,  and  looked 
at  me  while  he  was  taking  it  with  an  air  of  much  curi- 
osity. 

"  Is  it  even  so  ?  "  said  he.  "  Am  I  so  far  favoured  by 
fortune  as  to  have  your  pity  ?  Infinitely  obliged,  my 
cousin  Anne !  But  these  sentiments  are  not  always  re- 
ciprocal, and  I  warn  you  that  the  day  when  I  set  my 


ST.  IVES 

foot  on  your  neck,  the  spine  shall  break.  Are  you  ac* 
quainted  with  the  properties  of  the  spine  ?  "  he  asked, 
with  an  insolence  beyond  qualification. 

It  was  too  much.  "  I  am  acquainted  also  with  the 
properties  of  a  pair  of  pistols,"  said  I,  toising  him. 

'*No,  no,  no!  "  says  he,  holding  up  his  fmger.  "I 
will  take  my  revenge  how  and  when  I  please.  We  are 
enough  of  the  same  family  to  understand  each  other, 
perhaps;  and  the  reason  why  I  have  not  had  you 
arrested  on  your  arrival,  why  I  had  not  a  picket  of  sol- 
diers in  the  first  clump  of  evergreens,  to  await  and  pre- 
vent your  coming— I,  who  knew  all,  before  whom  that 
pettifogger,  Romaine,  has  been  conspiring  in  broad 
daylight  to  supplant  me— is  simply  this :  that  I  had  not 
made  up  my  mind  how  I  was  to  take  my  revenge." 

At  that  moment  he  was  interrupted  by  the  tolling  of 
a  bell.  As  we  stood  surprised  and  listening,  it  was  suc- 
ceeded by  the  sound  of  many  feet  trooping  up  the  stairs 
and  shuffling  by  the  door  of  our  room.  Both,  I  believe, 
had  a  great  curiosity  to  set  it  open,  which  each,  owing 
to  the  presence  of  the  other,  resisted;  and  we  waited 
instead  in  silence,  and  without  moving,  until  Romaine 
returned  and  bade  us  to  my  uncle's  presence. 

He  led  the  way  by  a  little  crooked  passage,  which 
brought  us  out  in  the  sick-room,  and  behind  the  bed. 
I  believe  I  have  forgotten  to  remark  that  the  Count's 
chamber  was  of  considerable  dimensions.  We  beheld 
it  now  crowded  with  the  servants  and  dependants  of  the 
house,  from  the  doctor  and  the  priest  to  Mr.  Dawson 
and  the  housekeeper,  from  Dawson  down  to  Rowley 
and  the  last  footman  in  white  calves,  the  last  plump 
chambermaid  in  her  clean  gown  and  cap,  and  the  last 


THE   DEVIL  AND   All    AT  AMERSHAM   PLACE 

ostler  in  a  stable  waistcoat.  This  large  congregation  of 
persons  (and  I  was  surprised  to  see  how  large  it  was) 
had  the  appearance,  for  the  most  part,  of  being  ill  at 
ease  and  heartily  bewildered,  standing  on  one  foot,  gap- 
ing like  zanies,  and  those  who  were  in  the  corners  nudg- 
ing each  other  and  grinning  aside.  My  uncle,  on  the 
other  hand,  who  was  raised  higher  than  I  had  yet  seen 
him  on  his  pillows,  wore  an  air  of  really  imposing  grav- 
ity. No  sooner  had  we  appeared  behind  him,  than  he 
lifted  his  voice  to  a  good  loudness,  and  addressed  the 
assemblage. 

"  I  take  you  all  to  witness— can  you  hear  me  ?—l  take 
you  all  to  witness  that  I  recognise  as  my  heir  and  rep- 
resentative this  gentleman,  whom  most  of  you  see  for 
the  first  time,  the  Viscount  Anne  de  Saint- Yves,  my 
nephew  of  the  younger  line.  And  I  take  you  to  witness 
at  the  same  time  that,  for  very  good  reasons  known  to 
myself,  I  have  discarded  and  disinherited  this  other  gen- 
tleman whom  you  all  know,  the  Viscount  de  Saint- 
Yves.  I  have  also  to  explain  the  unusual  trouble  to 
which  I  have  put  you  all— and,  since  your  supper  was 
not  over,  I  fear  I  may  even  say  annoyance.  It  has 
pleased  M.  Alain  to  make  some  threats  of  disputing  my 
will,  and  to  pretend  that  there  are  among  your  number 
certain  estimable  persons  who  may  be  trusted  to  swear 
as  he  shall  direct  them.  It  pleases  me  thus  to  put  it  out 
of  his  power  and  to  stop  the  mouths  of  his  false  wit- 
nesses. I  am  infinitely  obliged  by  your  politeness,  and 
I  have  the  honour  to  wish  you  all  a  very  good  evening." 

As  the  servants,  still  greatly  mystified,  crowded  out 
of  the  sick-room  door,  curtseying,  pulling  the  forelock, 
scraping  with  the  foot,  and  so  on,  according  to  their 

223 


ST.  IVES 

degree,  I  turned  and  stole  a  look  at  my  cousin.  He  had 
borne  this  crushing  public  rebuke  without  change  of 
countenance.  He  stood,  now,  very  upright,  with  folded 
arms,  and  looking  inscrutably  at  the  roof  of  the  apart- 
ment. I  could  not  refuse  him  at  that  moment  the  trib- 
ute of  my  admiration.  Still  more  so  when,  the  last  of  the 
domestics  having  filed  through  the  doorway  and  left  us 
alone  with  my  great-uncle  and  the  lawyer,  he  took  one 
step  forward  towards  the  bed,  made  a  dignified  rever- 
ence, and  addressed  the  man  who  had  just  condemned 
him  to  ruin. 

"My  lord,"  said  he,  "you  are  pleased  to  treat  me  in 
a  manner  which  my  gratitude,  and  your  state,  equally 
forbid  me  to  call  in  question.  It  will  be  only  necessary 
for  me  to  call  your  attention  to  the  length  of  time  in 
which  I  have  been  taught  to  regard  myself  as  your  heir. 
In  that  position,  I  judged  it  only  loyal  to  permit  myself 
a  certain  scale  of  expenditure.  If  I  am  now  to  be  cut 
off  with  a  shilling  as  the  reward  of  twenty  years  of 
service,  I  shall  be  left  not  only  a  beggar,  but  a  bank- 
rupt." 

Whether  from  the  fatigue  of  his  recent  exertion,  or  by  a 
well-inspired  ingenuity  of  hate,  my  uncle  had  once  more 
closed  his  eyes ;  nor  did  he  open  them  now.  "  Not  with 
a  shilling,"  he  contented  himself  with  replying,  and 
there  stole,  as  he  said  it,  a  sort  of  smile  over  his  face, 
that  flickered  there  conspicuously  for  the  least  moment 
of  time,  and  then  faded  and  left  behind  the  old  impen- 
etrable mask  of  years,  cunning,  and  fatigue.  There 
could  be  no  mistake:  my  uncle  enjoyed  the  situation  as 
he  had  enjoyed  few  things  in  the  last  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury.   The  fires  of  life  scarce  survived  in  that  frail  body ; 

224 


THE  DEVIL  AND  ALL  AT  AMERSHAM   PLACE 

but  hatred,  like  some  immortal  quality,  was  still  erect 
and  unabated. 

Nevertheless  my  cousin  persevered. 

"  I  speak  at  a  disadvantage,"  he  resumed.  "  My  sup- 
planter,  with  perhaps  more  wisdom  than  delicacy,  re- 
mains in  the  room,"  and  he  cast  a  glance  at  me  that 
might  have  withered  an  oak-tree. 

I  was  only  too  willing  to  withdraw,  and  Romaine 
showed  as  much  alacrity  to  make  way  for  my  departure. 
But  my  uncle  was  not  to  be  moved.  In  the  same  breath 
of  a  voice,  and  still  without  opening  his  eyes,  he  bade 
me  remain. 

"It  is  well,"  said  Alain.  "I  cannot  then  go  on  to 
remind  you  of  the  twenty  years  that  have  passed  over 
our  heads  in  England,  and  the  services  I  may  have  ren- 
dered you  in  that  time.  It  would  be  a  position  too 
odious.  Your  lordship  knows  me  too  well  to  suppose 
I  could  stoop  to  such  ignominy.  I  must  leave  out  all 
my  defence— your  lordship  wills  it  so!  I  do  not  know 
what  are  my  faults ;  I  know  only  my  punishment,  and 
it  is  greater  than  I  have  the  courage  to  face.  My  uncle, 
I  implore  your  pity:  pardon  me  so  far;  do  not  send  me 
for  life  into  a  debtors'  jail— a  pauper  debtor." 

"  Chat  ei  vieux,  pardonnei?  "  said  my  uncle,  quoting 
from  La  Fontaine;  and  then,  opening  a  pale-blue  eye 
full  on  Alain,  he  delivered  with  some  emphasis: 

"  La  jeanesse  se  flatte  et  croit  tout  obtenir; 
La  vieillesse  est  impitoyable." 

The  blood  leaped  darkly  into  Alain's  face.  He  turned 
to  Romaine  and  me,  and  his  eyes  flashed. 

225 


ST.  IVES 

"  It  is  your  turn  now,"  he  said.  "  At  least  it  shall  be 
prison  for  prison  with  the  two  viscounts." 

"Not  so,  Mr.  Alain,  by  your  leave,"  said  Romaine. 
"There  are  a  few  formalities  to  be  considered  first." 

But  Alain  was  already  striding  towards  the  door. 

"Stop  a  moment,  stop  a  moment!"  cried  Romaine. 
"  Remember  your  own  counsel  not  to  despise  an  adver- 
sary." 

Alain  turned. 

"If  I  do  not  despise  I  hate  you! "  he  cried,  giving  a 
loose  to  his  passion.    "  Be  warned  of  that,  both  of  you." 

"  1  understand  you  to  threaten  Monsieur  le  Vicomte 
Anne,"  said  the  lawyer.  "Do  you  know,  1  would  not 
do  that.  I  am  afraid,  I  am  very  much  afraid,  if  you 
were  to  do  as  you  propose,  you  might  drive  me  into 
extremes." 

"  You  have  made  me  a  beggar  and  a  bankrupt,"  said 
Alain.     "  What  extreme  is  left  ?  " 

"  I  scarce  like  to  put  a  name  upon  it  in  this  company," 
replied  Romaine.  "  But  there  are  worse  things  than 
even  bankruptcy,  and  worse  places  than  a  debtors' jail." 

The  words  were  so  significantly  said  that  there  went 
a  visible  thrill  through  Alain ;  sudden  as  a  swordstroke, 
he  fell  pale  again. 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  he. 

"  O  yes,  you  do,"  returned  Romaine.  "  I  believe  you 
understand  me  very  well.  You  must  not  suppose  that 
all  this  time,  while  you  were  so  very  busy,  others  were 
entirely  idle.  You  must  not  fancy,  because  1  am  an 
Englishman,  that  I  have  not  the  intelligence  to  pursue 
an  inquiry.  Great  as  is  my  regard  for  the  honour  of 
your  house,  M.  Alain  de  Saint- Yves,  if  I  hear  of  you 

326 


THE   DEVIL  AND  ALL  AT  AMERSHAM   PLACE 

moving  directly  or  indirectly  in  this  matter,  I  shall  do 
my  duty,  let  it  cost  what  it  will:  that  is,  I  shall  com- 
municate the  real  name  of  the  Buonapartist  spy  who 
signs  his  letters  Rue  Gregoire  de  Tours." 

1  confess  my  heart  was  already  almost  altogether  on 
the  side  of  my  insulted  and  unhappy  cousin ;  and  if  it 
had  not  been  before,  it  must  have  been  so  now,  so  hor- 
rid was  the  shock  with  which  he  heard  his  infamy  ex- 
posed. Speech  was  denied  him ;  he  carried  his  hand  to 
his  neckcloth;  he  staggered;  I  thought  he  must  have 
fallen.  1  ran  to  help  him,  and  at  that  he  revived,  recoiled 
before  me,  and  stood  there  with  arms  stretched  forth  as 
if  to  preserve  himself  from  the  outrage  of  my  touch. 

"  Hands  off!  "  he  somehow  managed  to  articulate. 

"You  will  now,  I  hope,"  pursued  the  lawyer,  with- 
out any  change  of  voice,  "  understand  the  position  in 
which  you  are  placed,  and  how  delicately  it  behoves 
you  to  conduct  yourself.  Your  arrest  hangs,  if  I  may 
so  express  myself,  by  a  hair;  and  as  you  will  be  under 
the  perpetual  vigilance  of  myself  and  my  agents,  you 
must  look  to  it  narrowly  that  you  walk  straight.  Upon 
the  least  dubiety,  I  will  take  action." 

He  snuffed,  looking  critically  at  the  tortured  man. 
"  And  now  let  me  remind  you  that  your  chaise  is  at  the 
door.  This  interview  is  agitating  to  his  lordship— it 
cannot  be  agreeable  for  you— and  I  suggest  that  it  need 
not  be  further  drawn  out.  It  does  not  enter  into  the 
views  of  your  uncle,  the  Count,  that  you  should  again 
sleep  under  this  roof." 

As  Alain  turned  and  passed  without  a  word  or  a  sign 
from  the  apartment,  I  instantly  followed.  I  suppose  I 
must  be  at  bottom  possessed  of  some  humanity;  at 

227 


ST.  IVES 

least,  this  accumulated  torture,  this  slow  butchery  of  a 
man  as  by  quarters  of  rock,  had  wholly  changed  my 
sympathies.  At  that  moment  I  loathed  both  my  uncle 
and  the  lawyer  for  their  cold-blooded  cruelty. 

Leaning  over  the  banisters,  1  was  but  in  time  to  hear 
his  hasty  footsteps  in  that  hall  that  had  been  crowded 
with  servants  to  honour  his  coming,  and  was  now  left 
empty  against  his  friendless  departure.  A  moment 
later,  and  the  echoes  rang  and  the  air  whistled  in  my 
ears,  as  he  slammed  the  door  on  his  departing  footsteps. 
The  fury  of  the  concussion  gave  me  (had  one  been  still 
wanted)  a  measure  of  the  turmoil  of  his  passions.  In 
a  sense,  I  felt  with  him ;  I  felt  how  he  would  have  glo- 
ried to  slam  that  door  on  my  uncle,  the  lawyer,  myself, 
and  the  whole  crowd  of  those  who  had  been  witnesses 
to  his  humiliation. 


CHAPTER  XX 

AFTER   THE   STORM 

No  sooner  was  the  house  clear  of  my  cousin,  than  I 
began  to  reckon  up,  ruefully  enough,  the  probable  re- 
sults of  what  had  passed.  Here  were  a  number  of  pots 
broken,  and  it  looked  to  me  as  if  I  should  have  to  pay 
for  all!  Here  had  been  this  proud,  mad  beast  goaded 
and  baited  both  publicly  and  privately,  till  he  could  nei- 
ther hear  nor  see  nor  reason;  whereupon  the  gate  had 
been  set  open,  and  he  had  been  left  free  to  go  and  con- 
trive whatever  vengeance  he  might  find  possible.  I 
could  not  help  thinking  it  was  a  pity  that,  whenever  I 
myself  was  inclined  to  be  upon  my  good  behaviour, 
some  friends  of  mine  should  always  determine  to  play 
a  piece  of  heroics  and  cast  me  for  the  hero— or  the  vic- 
tim—which is  very  much  the  same.  The  first  duty  of 
heroics  is  to  be  of  your  own  choosing.  When  they 
are  not  that,  they  are  nothing.  And  I  assure  you, 
as  I  walked  back  to  my  own  room,  I  was  in  no  very 
complaisant  humour:  thought  my  uncle  and  Mr.  Ro- 
maine  to  have  played  knuckle-bones  with  my  life  and 
prospects;  cursed  them  for  it  roundly;  had  no  wish 
more  urgent  than  to  avoid  the  pair  of  them ;  and  was 

229 


ST.  IVES 

quite  knocked  out  of  time,  as  they  say  in  the  ring,  to 
find  myself  confronted  with  the  lawyer. 

He  stood  on  my  hearth-rug,  leaning  on  the  chimney- 
piece,  with  a  gloomy,  thoughtful  brow,  as  I  was  pleased 
to  see,  and  not  in  the  least  as  though  he  were  vain  of 
the  late  proceedings. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  1.     "  You  have  done  it,  now  I " 

"  Is  he  gone  ?  "  he  asked. 

"He  is  gone,"  said  I.  "We  shall  have  the  devil  to 
pay  with  him  when  he  comes  back." 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  lawyer,  "and  very  little 
to  pay  him  with  but  flams  and  fabrications,  like  to- 
night's." 

"  To-night's  ?  "  I  repeated. 

"  Ay,  to-night's !  "  said  he. 

"To-night's  what?''  I  cried. 

"To-night's  flams  and  fabrications." 

"  God  be  good  to  me,  sir,"  said  I,  "  have  I  something 
more  to  admire  in  your  conduct  than  ever  /  had  sus- 
pected ?  You  cannot  think  how  you  interest  me !  That 
it  was  severe,  I  knew ;  I  had  already  chuckled  over  that. 
But  that  it  should  be  false  also!  In  what  sense,  dear 
sir?" 

I  believe  I  was  extremely  offensive  as  I  put  the  ques- 
tion, but  the  lawyer  paid  no  heed. 

"  False  in  all  senses  of  the  word,"  he  replied  seriously. 
"  False  in  the  sense  that  they  were  not  true,  and  false 
in  the  sense  that  they  were  not  real;  false  in  the  sense 
that  I  boasted,  and  in  the  sense  that  I  lied.  How  can  I 
arrest  him  ?  Your  uncle  burned  the  papers !  I  told  you 
so— but  doubtless  you  have  forgotten —the  day  I  first 
saw  you  in  Edinburgh  Castle.  It  was  an  act  of  gener- 
ate 


AFTER  THE   STORM 

osity;  I  have  seen  many  of  these  acts,  and  always  re- 
gretted—always regretted!  'That  shall  be  his  inher- 
itance,' he  said,  as  the  papers  burned;  he  did  not  mean 
that  it  should  have  proved  so  rich  a  one.  How  rich, 
time  will  tell." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  a  hundred  thousand  times,  my 
dear  sir,  but  it  strikes  me  you  have  the  impudence— in 
the  circumstances,  I  may  call  it  the  indecency— to  appear 
cast  down  ?  " 

**  It  is  true,"  said  he:  "I  am.  I  am  cast  down.  1  am 
literally  cast  down.  I  feel  myself  quite  helpless  against 
your  cousin." 

"Now,  really!  "  I  asked.  "Is  this  serious  ?  And  is  it 
perhaps  the  reason  why  you  have  gorged  the  poor  devil 
with  every  species  of  insult  ?  and  why  you  took  such 
surprising  pains  to  supply  me  with  what  I  had  so  little 
need  of— another  enemy  ?  That  you  were  helpless 
against  him  ?  '  Here  is  my  last  missile,'  say  you;  *  my 
ammunition  is  quite  exhausted:  just  wait  till  I  get  the 
last  in— it  will  irritate,  it  cannot  hurt  him.  There— you 
see!— he  is  furious  now,  and  I  am  quite  helpless.  One 
more  prod,  another  kick:  now  he  is  a  mere  lunatic! 
Stand  behind  me;  1  am  quite  helpless!  '  Mr.  Romaine, 
I  am  asking  myself  as  to  the  background  or  motive  of 
this  singular  jest,  and  whether  the  name  of  it  should  not 
be  called  treachery  ?  " 

"I  can  scarce  wonder,"  said  he.  "In  truth  it  has 
been  a  singular  business,  and  we  are  very  fortunate  to 
be  out  of  it  so  well.  Yet  it  was  not  treachery:  no, 
no,  Mr.  Anne,  it  was  not  treachery;  and  if  you 
will  do  me  the  favour  to  listen  to  me  for  the  inside 
of  a  minute,  I  shall  demonstrate  the  same  to  you  beyond 

231 


ST.  IVES 

cavil. "  He  seemed  to  wake  up  to  his  ordinary  briskness. 
**  You  see  the  point  ?  "  he  began.  "  He  had  not  yet  read 
the  newspaper,  but  who  could  tell  when  he  might  ?  He 
might  have  had  that  damned  journal  in  his  pocket,  and 
how  should  we  know  ?  We  were— I  may  say,  we  are 
—  at  the  mercy  of  the  merest  twopenny  accident." 

"Why,  true,"  said  I:  "  I  had  not  thought  of  that." 

" I  warrant  you,"  cried  Romaine,  "you  had  supposed 
it  was  nothing  to  be  the  hero  of  an  interestmg  notice  in 
the  journals!  You  had  supposed,  as  like  as  not,  it  was 
a  form  of  secrecy !  But  not  so  in  the  least.  A  part  of 
England  is  already  buzzing  with  the  name  of  Champ- 
divers  ;  a  day  or  two  more  and  the  mail  will  have  carried 
it  everywhere :  so  wonderful  a  machine  is  this  of  ours 
for  disseminating  intelligence !  Think  of  it !  When  my 
father  was  born— but  that  is  another  story.  To  return : 
we  had  here  the  elements  of  such  a  combustion  as  I 
dread  to  think  of —your  cousin  and  the  journal.  Let  him 
but  glance  an  eye  upon  that  column  of  print,  and  where 
were  we  ?  It  is  easy  to  ask ;  not  so  easy  to  answer,  my 
young  friend.  And  let  me  tell  you,  this  sheet  is  the 
Viscount's  usual  reading.  It  is  my  conviction  he  had  it 
in  his  pocket." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  I.  "I  have  been  un- 
just.    I  did  not  appreciate  my  danger." 

"  I  think  you  never  do,"  said  he. 

"  But  yet  surely  that  public  scene—"  I  began. 

"It  was  madness.  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  Mr. 
Romaine  interrupted.  "  But  it  was  your  uncle's  orders, 
Mr.  Anne,  and  what  could  I  do  ?  Tell  him  you  were 
the  murderer  of  Goguelat  ?     I  think  not." 

"No,  sure!  "  said  I.  "That  would  but  have  been  to 
232 


AFTER  THE  STORM 

make  the  trouble  thicker.  We  were  certainly  in  a  very 
ill  posture." 

'*  You  do  not  yet  appreciate  how  grave  it  was,"  he 
replied.  "  It  was  necessary  for  you  that  your  cousin 
should  go,  and  go  at  once.  You  yourself  had  to  leave 
to-night  under  cover  of  darkness,  and  how  could  you 
have  done  that  with  the  Viscount  in  the  next  room  ? 
He  must  go,  then ;  he  must  leave  without  delay.  And 
that  was  the  difficulty." 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Romaine,  but  could  not  my  uncle 
have  bidden  him  go  ?  "  1  asked. 

"  Why,  I  see  I  must  tell  you  that  this  is  not  so  simple 
as  it  sounds,"  he  replied.  "  You  say  this  is  your  uncle's 
house,  and  so  it  is.  But  to  all  effects  and  purposes  it  is 
your  cousin's  also.  He  has  rooms  here;  has  had  them 
coming  on  for  thirty  years  now,  and  they  are  filled  with 
a  prodigious  accumulation  of  trash— stays,  1  dare  say, 
and  powder-puffs,  and  such  effeminate  idiocy— to  which 
none  could  dispute  his  title,  even  suppose  any  one 
wanted  to.  We  had  a  perfect  right  to  bid  him  go,  and 
he  had  a  perfect  right  to  reply,  '  Yes,  I  will  go,  but  not 
without  my  stays  and  cravats.  I  must  first  get  together 
the  nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine  chestsful  of  insuffer- 
able rubbish,  that  1  have  spent  the  last  thirty  years  col- 
lecting—and may  very  well  spend  the  next  thirty  hours 
a-packing  of. '    And  what  should  we  have  said  to  that  ?  " 

"  By  way  of  repartee  ?  "  1  asked.  "  Two  tall  footmen 
and  a  pair  of  crab-tree  cudgels,  I  suggest." 

"  The  Lord  deliver  me  from  the  wisdom  of  laymen !  " 
cried  Romaine.  "  Put  myself  in  the  wrong  at  the  be- 
ginning of  a  lawsuit?  No,  indeed!  There  was  but 
one  thing  to  do,  and  1  did  it,  and  burned  my  last  car- 

233 


ST.  IVES 

tridge  in  the  doing  of  it.  I  stunned  him.  And  it  gave 
us  three  hours,  by  which  we  should  make  haste  to 
profit;  for  if  there  is  one  thing  sure,  it  is  that  he  will  be 
up  to  time  again  to-morrow  in  the  morning." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "I  own  myself  an  idiot.  Well  do 
they  say,  an  old  soldier,  an  old  innocent !  For  I  guessed 
nothing  of  all  this." 

"  And,  guessing  it,  have  you  the  same  objections  to 
leave  England  }  "  he  inquired. 

"The  same,"  said  1. 

"  It  is  indispensable,"  he  objected. 

"  And  it  cannot  be,"  I  replied.  "  Reason  has  nothing 
to  say  in  the  matter;  and  I  must  not  let  you  squander 
any  of  yours.  It  will  be  enough  to  tell  you  this  is  an 
affair  of  the  heart." 

"  Is  it  even  so  ?  "  quoth  Romaine,  nodding  his  head. 
"  And  I  might  have  been  sure  of  it.  Place  them  in  a 
hospital,  put  them  in  a  jail  in  yellow  overalls,  do  what 
you  will,  young  Jessamy  finds  young  Jenny.  O,  have 
it  your  own  way;  I  am  too  old  a  hand  to  argue  with 
young  gentlemen  who  choose  to  fancy  themselves  in 
love;  I  have  too  much  experience,  thank  you.  Only, 
be  sure  that  you  appreciate  what  you  risk :  the  prison, 
the  dock,  the  gallows,  and  the  halter— terribly  vulgar 
circumstances,  my  young  friend;  grim,  sordid,  earnest; 
no  poetry  in  that!  " 

"And  there  I  am  warned,"  I  returned  gaily.  "No 
man  could  be  warned  more  finely  or  with  a  greater  elo- 
quence. And  I  am  of  the  same  opinion  still.  Until  I 
have  again  seen  that  lady,  nothing  shall  induce  me  to 
quit  Great  Britain.     I  have  besides—" 

And  here  I  came  to  a  full  stop.  It  was  upon  my 
234 


AFTER  THE  STORM 

tongue  to  have  told  him  the  story  of  the  drovers,  but  at 
the  first  word  of  it  my  voice  died  in  my  throat.  There 
might  be  a  limit  to  the  lawyer's  toleration,  I  reflected. 
I  had  not  been  so  long  in  Britain  altogether;  for  the 
most  part  of  that  time  I  had  been  by  the  heels  in  limbo 
in  Edinburgh  Castle;  and  already  I  had  confessed  to 
killing  one  man  with  a  pair  of  scissors;  and  now  I  was 
to  go  on  and  plead  guilty  to  having  settled  another  with 
a  holly-stick!  A  wave  of  discretion  went  over  me  as 
cold  and  as  deep  as  the  sea. 

"  In  short,  sir,  this  is  a  matter  of  feeling,"  I  concluded, 
'*and  nothing  will  prevent  my  going  to  Edinburgh." 

If  I  had  fired  a  pistol  in  his  ear  he  could  not  have  been 
more  startled. 

"  To  Edinburgh  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  Edinburgh  ?  where 
the  very  paving-stones  know  you !  " 

"Then  is  the  murder  out!"  said  I.  "But,  Mr.  Ro- 
maine,  is  there  not  sometimes  safety  in  boldness  ?  Is 
it  not  a  commonplace  of  strategy  to  get  where  the 
enemy  least  expects  you  ?  And  where  would  he  ex- 
pect me  less  ?  " 

"Faith,  there  is  something  in  that,  too!"  cried  the 
lawyer.  "  Ay,  certainly,  a  great  deal  in  that.  All  the 
witnesses  drowned  but  one,  and  he  safe  in  prison ;  you 
yourself  changed  beyond  recognition— let  us  hope— and 
walking  the  streets  of  the  very  town  you  have  illustrated 
by  your— well,  your  eccentricity!  It  is  not  badly  com- 
bined, indeed! " 

"  You  approve  it,  then  ?  "  said  I. 

"O,  approve!  "  said  he;  "there  is  no  question  of  ap- 
proval. There  is  only  one  course  which  I  could  approve, 
and  that  were  to  escape  to  France  instanter." 

^35 


ST.  IVES 

"  You  do  not  wholly  disapprove,  at  least  ?  *'  I  substi- 
tuted. 

"Not  wholly;  and  it  would  not  matter  if  I  did,"  he 
replied.  "Go  your  own  way;  you  are  beyond  argu- 
ment. And  I  am  not  sure  that  you  will  run  more  dan- 
ger by  that  course  than  by  any  other.  Give  the  servants 
time  to  get  to  bed  and  fall  asleep,  then  take  a  country 
cross-road  and  walk,  as  the  rhyme  has  it,  like  blazes  all 
night.  In  the  morning  take  a  chaise  or  take  the  mail  at 
pleasure,  and  continue  your  journey  with  all  the  deco- 
rum and  reserve  of  which  you  shall  be  found  capable." 

"  I  am  taking  the  picture  in,"  I  said.  "  Give  me  time. 
Tis  the  tout  ensemble  I  must  see:  the  whole  as  opposed 
to  the  details." 

"  Mountebank!  "  he  murmured. 

"  Yes,  I  have  it  now ;  and  I  see  myself  with  a  servant, 
and  that  servant  is  Rowley,"  said  I. 

"  So  as  to  have  one  more  link  with  your  uncle  ?  "  sug- 
gested the  lawyer.     "  Very  judicious !  " 

"  And,  pardon  me,  but  that  is  what  it  is,"  I  exclaimed. 
"Judicious  is  the  word.  I  am  not  making  a  deception 
fit  to  last  for  thirty  years ;  I  do  not  found  a  palace  in  the 
living  granite  for  the  night.  This  is  a  shelter  tent— a 
flying  picture— seen,  admired,  and  gone  again  in  the 
wink  of  an  eye.  What  is  wanted,  in  short,  is  a  trompe- 
Vceil  that  shall  be  good  enough  for  twelve  hours  at  an 
inn:  is  it  not  so?  " 

"  It  is,  and  the  objection  holds.  Rowley  is  but  an- 
other danger,"  said  Romaine. 

"  Rowley,"  said  I,  "  will  pass  as  a  servant  from  a  dis- 
tance—as a  creature  seen  poised  on  the  dicky  of  a  bowl- 
ing chaise.     He  will  pass  at  hand  as  the  smart,  civil 

236 


AFTER  THE  STORM 

fellow  one  meets  in  the  inn  corridor,  and  looks  back  at, 
and  asks,  and  is  told,  '  Gentleman's  servant  in  Number 
4.'  He  will  pass,  in  fact,  all  round,  except  with  his 
personal  friends !  My  dear  sir,  pray  what  do  you  ex- 
pect ?  Of  course,  if  we  meet  my  cousin,  or  if  we  meet 
anybody  who  took  part  in  the  judicious  exhibition  of 
this  evening,  we  are  lost;  and  who's  denying  it?  To 
every  disguise,  however  good  and  safe,  there  is  always 
the  weak  point;  you  must  always  take  (let  us  say— and 
to  take  a  simile  from  your  own  waistcoat  pocket)  a 
snuff-box-full  of  risk.  You'll  get  it  just  as  small  with 
Rowley  as  with  anybody  else.  And  the  long  and  short 
of  it  is,  the  lad's  honest,  he  likes  me,  I  trust  him ;  he  is 
my  servant,  or  nobody." 

"  He  might  not  accept,"  said  Romaine. 

"I  bet  you  a  thousand  pounds  he  does!"  cried  I. 
"  But  no  matter;  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  send  him  out 
to-night  on  this  cross-country  business,  and  leave  the 
thing  to  me.  I  tell  you,  he  will  be  my  servant,  and  I 
tell  you,  he  will  do  well." 

I  had  crossed  the  room,  and  was  already  overhauling 
my  wardrobe  as  1  spoke. 

*'Well,"  concluded  the  lawyer,  with  a  shrug,  "one 
risk  with  another:  a  la  guerre  comme  d  la  guerre,  as  you 
would  say.  Let  the  brat  come  and  be  useful,  at  least." 
And  he  was  about  to  ring  the  bell,  when  his  eye  was 
caught  by  my  researches  in  the  wardrobe.  "Do  not 
fall  in  love  with  these  coats,  waistcoats,  cravats,  and 
other  panoply  and  accoutrements  by  which  you  are  now 
surrounded.  You  must  not  run  the  post  as  a  dandy. 
It  is  not  the  fashion,  even." 

"You  are  pleased  to  be  facetious,  sir,"  said  I;  "and 
237 


ST.  IVES 

not  according  to  knowledge.  These  clothes  are  my  life, 
they  are  my  disguise;  and  since  I  can  take  but  few  of 
them,  I  were  a  fool  indeed  if  I  selected  hastily!  Will 
you  understand,  once  and  for  all,  what  I  am  seeking  ? 
To  be  invisible,  is  the  first  point;  the  second,  to  be  in- 
visible in  a  post-chaise  and  with  a  servant.  Can  you 
not  perceive  the  delicacy  of  the  quest  ?  Nothing  must 
be  too  coarse,  nothing  too  fine;  rien  de  voyant,  rien  qui 
d^tonne;  so  that  I  may  leave  everywhere  the  inconspicu- 
ous image  of  a  handsome  young  man  of  a  good  fortune 
travelling  in  proper  style,  whom  the  landlord  will  forget 
in  twelve  hours— and  the  chambermaid  perhaps  remem- 
ber, God  bless  her!  with  a  sigh.  This  is  the  very  fine 
art  of  dress." 

*'  I  have  practised  it  with  success  for  fifty  years,"  said 
Romaine,  with  a  chuckle.  '*  A  black  suit  and  a  clean 
shirt  is  my  infallible  recipe." 

"You  surprise  me;  I  did  not  think  you  would  be 
shallow!  "  said  I,  lingering  between  two  coats.  "  Pray, 
Mr.  Romaine,  have  I  your  head  ?  or  did  you  travel  post 
and  with  a  smartish  servant  ?  " 

"Neither,  I  admit,"  said  he. 

"Which  changes  the  whole  problem,"  I  continued. 
"  I  have  to  dress  for  a  smartish  servant  and  a  Russia 
leather  despatch-box."  That  brought  me  to  a  stand. 
I  came  over  and  looked  at  the  box  with  a  moment's 
hesitation.  "  Yes,"  I  resumed.  "  Yes,  and  for  the  des- 
patch-box! It  looks  moneyed  and  landed;  it  means  1 
have  a  lawyer.  It  is  an  invaluable  property.  But  I 
could  have  wished  it  to  hold  less  money.  The  respon- 
sibility is  crushing.     Should  I  not  do  more  wisely  to 

2y% 


AFTER  THE  STORM 

take  five  hundred  pounds,  and  entrust  the  remainder 
with  you,  Mr.  Romaine  ?  " 

"  If  you  are  sure  you  will  not  want  it,"  answered  Ro- 
maine. 

"I  am  far  from  sure  of  that,"  cried  I.  "In  the  first 
place,  as  a  philosopher.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have 
been  at  the  head  of  a  large  sum,  and  it  is  conceivable— 
who  knows  himself  .^— that  I  may  make  it  fly.  In  the 
second  place,  as  a  fugitive.  Who  knows  what  I  may 
need  ?  The  whole  of  it  may  be  inadequate.  But  I  can 
always  write  for  more." 

*' You  do  not  understand,"  he  replied.  "I  break  off 
all  communication  with  you  here  and  now.  You  must 
give  me  a  power  of  attorney  ere  you  start  to-night,  and 
then  be  done  with  me  trenchantly  until  better  days." 

I  believe  1  offered  some  objection. 

** Think  a  little  for  once  of  me!  "  said  Romaine.  "I 
must  not  have  seen  you  before  to-night.  To-night  we 
are  to  have  had  our  only  interview,  and  you  are  to  have 
given  me  the  power;  and  to-night  I  am  to  have  lost 
sight  of  you  again— I  know  not  whither,  you  were  upon 
business,  it  was  none  of  my  affairs  to  question  you! 
And  this,  you  are  to  remark,  in  the  interests  of  your 
own  safety  much  more  than  mine." 

"  I  am  not  even  to  write  to  you  ?  "  I  said,  a  little  be- 
wildered. 

"  I  believe  I  am  cutting  the  last  strand  that  connects 
you  with  common  sense,"  he  replied.  "  But  that  is  the 
plain  English  of  it.  You  are  not  even  to  write;  and  if 
you  did,  I  would  not  answer." 

"  A  letter,  however—"  I  began. 
239 


ST.  IVES 

"Listen  to  me,"  interrupted  Romaine.  "So  soon  as 
your  cousin  reads  the  paragraph,  what  will  he  do  ?  Put 
the  police  upon  looking  into  my  correspondence!  So 
soon  as  you  write  to  me,  in  short,  you  write  to  Bow 
Street;  and  if  you  will  take  my  advice,  you  will  date  that 
letter  from  France." 

"The  devil!  "  said  I,  for  I  began  suddenly  to  see  that 
this  might  put  me  out  of  the  way  of  my  business. 

"  What  is  it  now  ?  "  says  he. 

"  There  will  be  more  to  be  done,  then,  before  we  can 
part,"  I  answered. 

"  I  give  you  the  whole  night,"  said  he.  "  So  long  as 
you  are  off  ere  daybreak,  I  am  content." 

"In  short,  Mr.  Romaine,"  said  1,  "I  have  had  so 
much  benefit  of  your  advice  and  services  that  I  am  loath 
to  sever  the  connection,  and  would  even  ask  a  substi- 
tute. I  would  be  obliged  for  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
one  of  your  own  cloth  in  Edinburgh— an  old  man  for 
choice,  very  experienced,  very  respectable,  and  very 
secret.     Could  you  favour  me  with  such  a  letter  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,"  said  he.  "  Certainly  not.  I  will  do  no 
such  thing,  indeed." 

"  It  would  be  a  great  favour,  sir,"  I  pleaded. 

"It  would  be  an  unpardonable  blunder,"  he  replied. 
"  What  ?  Give  you  a  letter  of  introduction  ?  and  when 
the  police  come,  I  suppose,  I  must  forget  the  circum- 
stance ?    No,  indeed.     Talk  of  it  no  more." 

"  You  seem  to  be  always  in  the  right,"  said  I.  "  The 
letter  would  be  out  of  the  question,  I  quite  see  that. 
But  the  lawyer's  name  might  very  well  have  dropped 
from  you  in  the  way  of  conversation ;  having  heard  him 
mentioned,  I  might  profit  by  the  circumstance  to  intro- 

240 


AFTER  THE  STORM 

duce  myself;  and  in  this  way  my  business  would  be  the 
better  done,  and  you  not  in  the  least  compromised." 

"  What  is  this  business  ?  "  said  Romaine. 

"I  have  not  said  that  I  had  any,"  I  replied.  "It 
might  arise.  This  is  only  a  possibility  that  I  must  keep 
in  view." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  with  a  gesture  of  the  hands,  "  I  men- 
tion Mr.  Robbie ;  and  let  that  be  an  end  of  it !  —  Or  wait !  " 
he  added,  "  I  have  it.  Here  is  something  that  will  serve 
you  for  an  introduction,  and  cannot  compromise  me." 
And  he  wrote  his  name  and  the  Edinburgh  lawyer's  ad- 
dress on  a  piece  of  card  and  tossed  it  to  me. 


141 


CHAPTER  XXI 

I   BECOME  THE   OWNER   OF   A   CLARET-COLOURED   CHAISE 

What  with  packing,  signing  papers,  and  partaking 
of  an  excellent  cold  supper  in  the  lawyer's  room,  it  was 
past  two  in  the  morning  before  we  were  ready  for  the 
road.  Romaine  himself  let  us  out  of  a  window  in  a 
part  of  the  house  known  to  Rowley :  it  appears  it  served 
as  a  kind  of  postern  to  the  servants'  hall,  by  which 
(when  they  were  in  the  mind  for  a  clandestine  evening) 
they  would  come  regularly  in  and  out;  and  I  remember 
very  well  the  vinegar  aspect  of  the  lawyer  on  the  receipt 
of  this  piece  of  information— how  he  pursed  his  lips, 
jutted  his  eyebrows,  and  kept  repeating,  "  This  must  be 
seen  to,  indeed!  this  shall  be  barred  to-morrow  in  the 
morning!"  In  this  preoccupation,  I  believe  he  took 
leave  of  me  without  observing  it;  our  things  were 
handed  out;  we  heard  the  window  shut  behind  us;  and 
became  instantly  lost  in  a  horrid  intricacy  of  blackness 
and  the  shadow  of  woods. 

A  little  wet  snow  kept  sleepily  falling,  pausing,  and 
falling  again;  it  seemed  perpetually  beginning  to  snow 
and  perpetually  leaving  off;  and  the  darkness  was  in- 
tense. Time  and  again  we  walked  into  trees;  time  and 
again  found  ourselves  adrift  among  garden  borders  or 

242 


I   BECOME  THE  OWNER  OF  A  CHAISE 

Stuck  like  a  ram  in  the  thicket.  Rowley  had  possessed 
himself  of  the  matches,  and  he  was  neither  to  be  terri- 
fied nor  softened.  "No,  I  will  not,  Mr.  Anne,  sir,"  he 
would  reply.  "  You  know  he  tell  me  to  wait  till  we 
were  over  the  'ill.  It's  only  a  little  way  now.  Why, 
and  I  thought  you  was  a  soldier,  too !  "  I  was  at  least 
a  very  glad  soldier  when  my  valet  consented  at  last  to 
kindle  a  thieves'  match.  From  this,  we  easily  lit  the 
lantern;  and  thence  forward,  through  a  labyrinth  of 
woodland  paths,  were  conducted  by  its  uneasy  glimmer. 
Both  booted  and  greatcoated,  with  tall  hats  much  of  a 
shape,  and  laden  with  booty  in  the  form  of  the  despatch- 
box,  a  case  of  pistols,  and  two  plump  valises,  I  thought 
we  had  very  much  the  look  of  a  pair  of  brothers  return- 
ing from  the  sack  of  Amersham  Place. 

We  issued  at  last  upon  a  country  by-road  where  we 
might  walk  abreast  and  without  precaution.  It  was  nine 
miles  to  Aylesbury,  our  immediate  destination;  by  a 
watch,  which  formed  part  of  my  new  outfit,  it  should 
be  about  half-past  three  in  the  morning;  and  as  we  did 
not  choose  to  arrive  before  daylight,  time  could  not  be 
said  to  press.     I  gave  the  order  to  march  at  ease. 

"  Now,  Rowley,"  said  I,  "  so  far  so  good.  You  have 
come,  in  the  most  obliging  manner  in  the  world,  to 
carry  these  valises.  The  question  is,  what  next  ?  What 
are  we  to  do  at  Aylesbury  ?  or,  more  particularly,  what 
are  you  ?  Thence,  I  go  on  a  journey.  Are  you  to  ac- 
company me  ?  " 

He  gave  a  little  chuckle.  "  That's  all  settled  already, 
Mr.  Anne,  sir,"  he  replied.  "  Why,  I've  got  my  things 
here  in  the  valise— a  half  a  dozen  shirts  and  what  not; 
I'm  all  ready,  sir:  just  you  lead  on;  you'll  see." 

343 


ST.  IVES 

"The  devil  you  have!"  said  I.  "You  made  pretty 
sure  of  your  welcome." 

"If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Rowley. 

He  looked  up  at  me,  in  the  light  of  the  lantern,  with 
a  boyish  shyness  and  triumph  that  awoke  my  conscience. 
I  could  never  let  this  innocent  involve  himself  in  the 
perils  and  difficulties  that  beset  my  course,  without 
some  hint  of  warning,  which  it  was  a  matter  of  ex- 
treme delicacy  to  make  plain  enough  and  not  too  plain. 

"No,  no,"  said  I;  "you  may  think  you  have  made  a 
choice,  but  it  was  blindfold,  and  you  must  make  it  over 
again.  The  Count's  service  is  a  good  one;  what  are 
you  leaving  it  for?  Are  you  not  throwing  away  the 
substance  for  the  shadow  ?  No,  do  not  answer  me  yet. 
You  imagine  that  I  am  a  prosperous  nobleman,  just  de- 
clared my  uncle's  heir,  on  the  threshold  of  the  best  of 
good  fortune,  and  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  judicious 
servant,  a  jewel  of  a  master  to  serve  and  stick  to? 
Well,  my  boy,  I  am  nothing  of  the  kind,  nothing  of  the 
kind." 

As  I  said  the  words,  I  came  to  a  full  stop  and  held  up 
the  lantern  to  his  face.  He  stood  before  me,  brilliantly 
illuminated  on  the  background  of  impenetrable  night 
and  falling  snow,  stricken  to  stone  between  his  double 
burden  like  an  ass  between  two  panniers,  and  gaping  at 
me  like  a  blunderbuss.  I  had  never  seen  a  face  so  pre- 
destined to  be  astonished,  or  so  susceptible  of  rendering 
the  emotion  of  surprise;  and  it  tempted  me  as  an  open 
piano  tempts  the  musician. 

"Nothing  of  the  sort,  Rowley,"  I  continued,  in  a 
churchyard  voice.  "  These  are  appearances,  pretty  ap- 
pearances.    I  am  in  peril,  homeless,  hunted.     I  count 

244 


I   BECOME  THE  OWNER  OF  A  CHAISE 

scarce  any  one  in  England  who  is  not  my  enemy.  From 
this  hour  I  drop  my  name,  my  title;  I  become  nameless; 
my  name  is  proscribed.  My  liberty,  my  life,  hang  by 
a  hair.  The  destiny  which  you  will  accept,  if  you  go 
forth  with  me,  is  to  be  tracked  by  spies,  to  hide  yourself 
under  a  false  name,  to  follow  the  desperate  pretences 
and  perhaps  share  the  fate  of  a  murderer  with  a  price 
upon  his  head." 

His  face  had  been  hitherto  beyond  expectation,  pass- 
ing from  one  depth  to  another  of  tragic  astonishment, 
and  really  worth  paying  to  see;  but  at  this,  it  suddenly 
cleared.  "  O,  I  ain't  afraid !  "  he  said ;  and  then,  chok- 
ing into  laughter,  "why,  I  see  it  from  the  first!  " 

I  could  have  beaten  him.  But  I  had  so  grossly  over- 
shot the  mark  that  I  suppose  it  took  me  two  good  miles 
of  road  and  half  an  hour  of  elocution  to  persuade  him  I 
had  been  in  earnest.  In  the  course  of  which,  I  became 
so  interested  in  demonstrating  my  present  danger  that 
I  forgot  all  about  my  future  safety,  and  not  only  told 
him  the  story  of  Goguelat,  but  threw  in  the  business  of 
the  drovers  as  well,  and  ended  by  blurting  out  that  I 
was  a  soldier  of  Napoleon's  and  a  prisoner  of  war. 

This  was  far  from  my  views  when  I  began;  and  it  is 
a  common  complaint  of  me  that  I  have  a  long  tongue. 
I  believe  it  is  a  fault  beloved  by  fortune.  Which  of  you 
considerate  fellows  would  have  done  a  thing  at  once  so 
foolhardy  and  so  wise  as  to  make  a  confidant  of  a  boy 
in  his  teens,  and  positively  smelling  of  the  nursery? 
And  when  had  I  cause  to  repent  it  ?  There  is  none  so 
apt  as  a  boy  to  be  the  adviser  of  any  man  in  difficulties 
such  as  mine.  To  the  beginnings  of  virile  common 
sense  he  adds  the  last  lights  of  the  child's  imagination; 

245 


ST.  IVES 

and  he  can  fling  himself  into  business  with  that  superior 
earnestness  that  properiy  belongs  to  play.  And  Rowley 
was  a  boy  made  to  my  hand.  He  had  a  high  sense  of 
romance,  and  a  secret  cultus  for  all  soldiers  and  crimi- 
nals. His  travelling  library  consisted  of  a  chap-book 
life  of  Wallace  and  some  sixpenny  parts  of  the  *  Old 
Bailey  Sessions  Papers  *  by  Gurney  the  shorthand  writer; 
and  the  choice  depicts  his  character  to  a  hair.  You  can 
imagine  how  his  new  prospects  brightened  on  a  boy  of 
this  disposition.  To  be  the  servant  and  companion  of  a 
fugitive,  a  soldier,  and  a  murderer,  rolled  in  one— to  live 
by  stratagems,  disguises,  and  false  names,  in  an  atmo- 
sphere of  midnight  and  mystery  so  thick  that  you  could 
cut  it  with  a  knife— was  really,  I  believe,  more  dear  to 
him  than  his  meals,  though  he  was  a  great  trencherman, 
and  something  of  a  glutton  besides.  For  myself,  as  the 
peg  by  which  all  this  romantic  business  hung,  I  was 
simply  idolised  from  that  moment;  and  he  would  rather 
have  sacrificed  his  hand  than  surrendered  the  privilege 
of  serving  me. 

We  arranged  the  terms  of  our  campaign,  trudging 
amicably  in  the  snow,  which  now,  with  the  approach 
of  morning,  began  to  fall  to  purpose.  I  chose  the  name 
of  Ramornie,  I  imagine  from  its  likeness  to  Romaine; 
Rowley,  from  an  irresistible  conversion  of  ideas,  I 
dubbed  Gammon.  His  distress  was  laughable  to  wit- 
ness: his  own  choice  of  an  unassuming  nickname  had 
been  Claude  Duval!  We  settled  our  procedure  at  the 
various  inns  where  we  should  alight,  rehearsed  our  little 
manners  like  a  piece  of  drill  until  it  seemed  impossible 
we  should  ever  be  taken  unprepared;  and  in  all  these 
dispositions,  you  may  be  sure  the  despatch-box  was  not 

246 


I   BECOME  THE  OWNER  OF  A  CHAISE 

forgotten.  Who  was  to  pick  it  up,  who  was  to  set  it 
down,  who  was  to  remain  beside  it,  who  was  to  sleep 
with  it— there  was  no  contingency  omitted,  all  was  gone 
into  with  the  thoroughness  of  a  drill-sergeant  on  the 
one  hand  and  a  child  with  a  new  plaything  on  the  other. 

"  I  say,  wouldn't  it  look  queer  if  you  and  me  was  to 
come  to  the  post-house  with  all  this  luggage  ?  "  said 
Rowley. 

"  I  dare  say, "  I  replied.    "  But  what  else  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"Well,  now,  sir— you  hear  me,"  says  Rowley.  "I 
think  it  would  look  more  natural-like  if  you  was  to 
come  to  the  post-house  alone,  and  with  nothing  in  your 
'ands— more  like  a  gentleman,  you  know.  And  you 
might  say  that  your  servant  and  baggage  was  a-waiting 
for  you  up  the  road.  1  think  I  could  manage,  somehow, 
to  make  a  shift  with  all  them  dratted  things— leastways 
if  you  was  to  give  me  a  'and  up  with  them  at  the  start.'* 

"  And  I  would  see  you  far  enough  before  I  allowed 
you  to  try,  Mr.  Rowley!  "  I  cried.  "Why,  you  would 
be  quite  defenceless!  A  footpad  that  was  an  infant 
child  could  rob  you.  And  I  should  probably  come  driv- 
ing by  to  find  you  in  a  ditch  with  your  throat  cut.  But 
there  is  something  in  your  idea,  for  all  that;  and  I  pro- 
pose we  put  it  in  execution  no  farther  forward  than  the 
next  corner  of  a  lane.'* 

Accordingly,  instead  of  continuing  to  aim  for  Ayles- 
bury, we  headed  by  cross-roads  for  some  point  to  the 
northward  of  it,  whither  I  might  assist  Rowley  with  the 
baggage,  and  where  1  might  leave  him  to  await  my  re- 
turn in  the  post-chaise. 

It  was  snowing  to  purpose,  the  country  all  white, 
and  ourselves  walking  snow-drifts,  when  the  first  glim- 

247 


ST.  IVES 

mer  of  the  morning  showed  us  an  inn  upon  the  high- 
way side.  Some  distance  off,  under  the  shelter  of  a 
corner  of  the  road  and  a  clump  of  trees,  I  loaded  Row- 
ley with  the  whole  of  our  possessions,  and  watched  him 
till  he  staggered  in  safety  into  the  doors  of  the  Green 
Dragon,  which  was  the  sign  of  the  house.  Thence  I 
walked  briskly  into  Aylesbury,  rejoicing  in  my  freedom 
and  the  causeless  good  spirits  that  belong  to  a  snowy 
morning;  though,  to  be  sure,  long  before  I  had  arrived 
the  snow  had  again  ceased  to  fall,  and  the  eaves  of 
Aylesbury  were  smoking  in  the  level  sun.  There  was 
an  accumulation  of  gigs  and  chaises  in  the  yard,  and  a 
great  bustle  going  forward  in  the  coffee-room  and  about 
the  doors  of  the  inn.  At  these  evidences  of  so  much 
travel  on  the  road  I  was  seized  with  a  misgiving  lest  it 
should  be  impossible  to  get  horses  and  I  should  be  de- 
tained in  the  precarious  neighbourhood  of  my  cousin. 
Hungry  as  I  was,  I  made  my  way  first  of  all  to  the  post- 
master, where  he  stood— a  big,  athletic,  horsey-looking 
man,  blowing  into  a  key  in  the  corner  of  the  yard. 

On  my  making  my  modest  request,  he  awoke  from 
his  indifference  into  what  seemed  passion. 

"  A  po'-shay  and  'osses  1 "  he  cried.  "  Do  I  look  as  if 
I  'ad  a  po'-shay  and  *osses  ?  Damn  me,  if  I  'ave  such  a 
thing  on  the  premises.  I  don't  make  'osses  and  chaises 
—I  'ire  'em.  You  might  be  God  Almighty! "  said  he; 
and  instantly,  as  if  he  had  observed  me  for  the  first  time, 
he  broke  off,  and  lowered  his  voice  into  the  confidential. 
"Why,  now  that  I  see  you  are  a  gentleman,"  said  he, 
"  I'll  tell  you  what!  If  you  like  to  buy^  I  have  the  arti- 
cle to  fit  you.  Second-'and  shay  by  Lycett,  of  London. 
Latest  style;  good  as  new.     Superior  fittin's,  net  on  the 

248 


I   BECOME  THE  OWNER  OF  A  CHAISE 

roof,  baggage  platform,  pistol  'olsters— the  most  com- 
plete and  the  most  gen-teel  turn-out  I  ever  see!  The 
'ole  for  seventy-five  pound !  It's  as  good  as  givin'  her 
away ! " 

"  Do  you  propose  I  should  trundle  it  myself,  like  a 
hawker's  barrow  ?  "  said  I.  "  Why,  my  good  man,  if 
I  have  to  stop  here,  anyway,  I  should  prefer  to  buy  a 
house  and  garden!  " 

"Come  and  look  at  her!"  he  cried;  and,  with  the 
word,  links  his  arm  in  mine  and  carries  me  to  the  out- 
house where  the  chaise  was  on  view. 
,  It  was  just  the  sort  of  chaise  that  I  had  dreamed  of 
for  my  purpose:  eminently  rich,  inconspicuous,  and 
genteel ;  for,  though  1  thought  the  postmaster  no  great 
authority,  I  was  bound  to  agree  with  him  so  far.  The 
body  was  painted  a  dark  claret,  and  the  wheels  an  in- 
visible green.  The  lamp  and  glasses  were  bright  as 
silver;  and  the  whole  equipage  had  an  air  of  privacy 
and  reserve  that  seemed  to  repel  inquiry  and  disarm  sus- 
picion. With  a  servant  like  Rowley,  and  a  chaise  like 
this,  I  felt  that  I  could  go  from  the  Land's  End  to  John 
o'  Groat's  House  amid  a  population  of  bowing  ostlers. 
And  I  suppose  I  betrayed  in  my  manner  the  degree  in 
which  the  bargain  tempted  me. 

"  Come,"  cried  the  postmaster—"  I'll  make  it  seventy, 
to  oblige  a  friend !  '* 

"The  point  is:  the  horses,"  said  I. 

"Well,"  said  he,  consulting  his  watch,  "it's  now 
gone  the  'alf  after  eight.  What  time  do  you  want  her 
at  the  door  ?  " 

"  Horses  and  all  ?  "  said  I. 

"  'Osses  and  all !  "  says  he.    "  One  good  turn  deserves 
249 


ST.  IVES 

another.  You  give  me  seventy  pound  for  the  shay,  and 
I'll  'oss  it  for  you.  I  told  you  I  didn't  make  'osses;  bui 
I  can  make  'em  to  oblige  a  friend." 

What  would  you  have  }  It  was  not  the  wisest  thing 
in  the  world  to  buy  a  chaise  within  a  dozen  miles  of  my 
uncle's  house;  but  in  this  way  I  got  my  horses  for  the 
next  stage.  And  by  any  other,  it  appeared  that  I  should 
have  to  wait.  Accordingly,  I  paid  the  money  down— 
perhaps  twenty  pounds  too  much,  though  it  was  certainly 
a  well-made  and  well-appointed  vehicle— ordered  it 
round  in  half  an  hour,  and  proceeded  to  refresh  myself 
with  breakfast. 

The  table  to  which  I  sat  down  occupied  the  recess  of 
a  bay-window,  and  commanded  a  view  of  the  front  of 
the  inn,  where  I  continued  to  be  amused  by  the  succes- 
sive departures  of  travellers— the  fussy  and  the  offhand, 
the  niggardly  and  the  lavish— all  exhibiting  their  differ- 
ent characters  in  that  diagnostic  moment  of  the  farewell 
some  escorted  to  the  stirrup  or  the  chaise  door  by  th/j 
chamberlain,  the  chambermaids  and  the  waiters  almost 
in  a  body,  others  moving  off  under  a  cloud,  without 
human  countenance.  In  the  course  of  this  I  became 
interested  in  one  for  whom  this  ovation  began  to  as- 
sume the  proportions  of  a  triumph ;  not  only  the  under- 
servants,  but  the  barmaid,  the  landlady,  and  my  friend 
the  postmaster  himself,  crowding  about  the  steps  to 
speed  his  departure.  I  was  aware,  at  the  same  time, 
of  a  good  deal  of  merriment,  as  though  the  traveller  were 
a  man  of  ready  wit,  and  not  too  dignified  to  air  it  in 
that  society.  I  leaned  forward  with  a  lively  curiosity ; 
and  the  next  moment  I  had  blotted  myself  behind  the 
teapot.     The  popular  traveller  had  turned  to  wave  a 

350 


I   BECOME  THE  OWNER  OF  A  CHAISE 

farewell ;  and  behold !  he  was  no  other  than  my  cousin 
Alain.  It  was  a  change  of  the  sharpest  from  the  angry, 
pallid  man  I  had  seen  at  Amersham  Place.  Ruddy  to  a 
fault,  illuminated  with  vintages,  crowned  with  his  curls 
like  Bacchus,  he  now  stood  before  me  for  an  instant,  the 
perfect  master  of  himself,  smiling  with  airs  of  conscious 
popularity  and  insufferable  condescension.  He  reminded 
me  at  once  of  a  royal  duke,  of  an  actor  turned  a  little 
elderly,  and  of  a  blatant  bagman  who  should  have  been 
the  illegitimate  son  of  a  gentleman.  A  moment  after  he 
was  gliding  noiselessly  on  the  road  to  London. 

I  breathed  again.  I  recognised,  with  heartfelt  grati- 
tude, how  lucky  1  had  been  to  go  in  by  the  stable-yard 
instead  of  the  hostelry  door,  and  what  a  fine  occasion 
of  meeting  my  cousin  I  had  lost  by  the  purchase  of  the 
claret-coloured  chaise !  The  next  moment  I  remembered 
that  there  was  a  waiter  present.  No  doubt  but  he  must 
have  observed  me  when  1  crouched  behind  the  breakfast 
equipage;  no  doubt  but  he  must  have  commented  on 
this  unusual  and  undignified  behaviour;  and  it  was  es- 
sential that  I  should  do  something  to  remove  the  im- 
pression. 

"Waiter!"  said  I,  "that  was  the  nephew  of  Count 
Carwell  that  just  drove  off,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir:  Viscount  Carwell  we  calls  him,"  he  replied. 

"  Ah,  I  thought  as  much,"  said  I.  "  Well,  well,  damn 
all  these  Frenchmen,  say  I !  " 

"You  may  so  indeed,  sir,"  said  the  waiter.  "They 
ain't  not  to  say  in  the  same  field  with  our  'ome-raised 
gentry." 

"  Nasty  tempers  ?  "  I  suggested. 

"Beas'ly  temper,  sir,  the  Viscount  'ave,'*  said  the 
251 


ST.  IVES 

waiter,  with  feeling.  "  Why,  no  longer  agone  than  this 
morning,  he  was  sitting  breakfasting  and  reading  in  his 
paper.  I  suppose,  sir,  he  come  on  some  pilitical  in- 
formation, or  it  might  be  about  'orses,  but  he  raps  his 
'and  upon  the  table  sudden  and  calls  for  curafoa.  It 
gave  me  quite  a  turn,  it  did ;  he  did  it  that  sudden  and 
'ard.  Now,  sir,  that  may  be  manners  in  France,  but 
hall  I  can  say  is,  that  I'm  not  used  to  it." 

"  Reading  the  paper,  was  he  ?  "  said  I.  "  What  paper, 
eh?" 

"  Here  it  is,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  waiter.  "  Seems  like 
as  if  he'd  dropped  it." 

And  picking  it  off  the  floor,  he  presented  it  to  me. 

I  may  say  that  I  was  quite  prepared,  that  I  already 
knew  what  to  expect;  but  at  sight  of  the  cold  print  my 
heart  stopped  beating.  There  it  was :  the  fulfilment  of 
Romaine's  apprehension  was  before  me;  the  paper  was 
laid  open  at  the  capture  of  Clausel.  I  felt  as  if  I  could 
take  a  little  cura^oa  myself,  but  on  second  thoughts 
called  for  brandy.  It  was  badly  wanted ;  and  suddenly 
I  observed  the  waiter's  eye  to  sparkle,  as  it  were,  with 
some  recognition;  made  certain  he  had  remarked  the 
resemblance  between  me  and  Alain ;  and  became  aware 
—as  by  a  revelation— of  the  fool's  part  I  had  been  play- 
ing. For  I  had  now  managed  to  put  my  identification 
beyond  a  doubt,  if  Alain  should  choose  to  make  his  in- 
quiries at  Aylesbury;  and,  as  if  that  were  not  enough, 
I  had  added,  at  an  expense  of  seventy  pounds,  a  clue  by 
which  he  might  follow  me  through  the  length  and 
breadth  of  England,  in  the  shape  of  the  claret-coloured 
chaise!  That  elegant  equipage  (which  I  began  to  re- 
gard as  little  better  than  a  claret-coloured  ante-room  to 

352 


I  BECOME  THE  OWNER  OF  A  CHAISE 

the  hangman's  cart)  coming  presently  to  the  door,  I  left 
my  breakfast  in  the  middle  and  departed ;  posting  to  the 
north  as  diligently  as  my  cousin  Alain  was  posting  to 
the  south,  and  putting  my  trust  (such  as  it  was)  in  an 
opposite  direction  and  equal  speed. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

CHARACTER   AND   ACaUIREMENTS  OF   MR.  ROWLEY 

I  AM  not  certain  that  I  had  ever  really  appreciated  be- 
fore that  hour  the  extreme  peril  of  the  adventure  on 
which  I  was  embarked.  The  'Sight  of  my  cousin,  the 
look  of  his  face— so  handsome,  so  jovial  at  the  first  sight, 
and  branded  with  so  much  malignity  as  you  saw  it  on 
the  second— with  his  hyperbolical  curls  in  order,  with 
his  neckcloth  tied  as  if  for  the  conquests  of  love,  setting 
forth  (as  I  had  no  doubt  in  the  world  he  was  doing)  to 
clap  the  Bow-street  runners  on  my  trail,  and  cover  Eng- 
land with  handbills,  each  dangerous  as  a  loaded  musket, 
convinced  me  for  the  first  time  that  the  affair  was  no 
less  serious  than  death.  I  believe  it  came  to  a  near 
touch  whether  I  should  not  turn  the  horses'  heads  at  the 
next  stage  and  make  directly  for  the  coast.  But  I  was 
now  in  the  position  of  a  man  who  should  have  thrown 
his  gage  into  the  den  of  lions ;  or,  better  still,  like  one 
who  should  have  quarrelled  overnight  under  the  influ- 
ence of  wine,  and  now,  at  daylight,  in  a  cold  winter's 
morning,  and  humbly  sober,  must  make  good  his  words. 
It  is  not  that  I  thought  any  the  less,  or  any  the  less 
warmly,  of  Flora.  But,  as  I  smoked  a  grim  cigar  that 
morning  in  a  corner  of  the  chaise,  no  doubt  I  considered, 

254 


CHARACTER  AND   ACQUIREMENTS  OF  MR.  ROWLEY 

in  the  first  place,  that  the  letter  post  had  been  invented, 
and  admitted  privately  to  myself,  in  the  second,  that  it 
would  have  been  highly  possible  to  write  her  on  a  piece 
of  paper,  seal  it,  and  send  it  skimming  by  the  mail,  in- 
stead of  going  personally  into  these  egregious  dangers 
and  through  a  country  that  I  beheld  crowded  with  gib- 
bets and  Bow-street  officers.  As  for  Sim  and  Candlish, 
I  doubt  if  they  crossed  my  mind. 

At  the  Green  Dragon  Rowley  was  waiting  on  the 
door-steps  with  the  luggage,  and  really  was  bursting 
with  unpalatable  conversation. 

"  Who  do  you  think  we've  'ad  'ere,  sir  ?  "  he  began 
breathlessly,  as  the  chaise  drove  off.  "  Red  Breasts  " ; 
and  he  nodded  his  head  portentously. 

"  Red  Breasts  ?  "  I  repeated,  for  I  stupidly  did  not 
understand  at  the  moment  an  expression  I  had  often 
heard. 

"Ah!"  said  he.  "Red  weskits.  Runners.  Bow- 
street  runners.  Two  on  'em,  and  one  was  Lavender 
himself!  I  hear  the  other  say  quite  plain,  *Now,  Mr. 
Lavender,  //you're  ready.'  They  was  breakfasting  as 
nigh  me  as  I  am  to  that  post-boy.  They're  all  right; 
they  ain't  after  us.  It's  a  forger;  and  I  didn't  send  them 
off  on  a  false  scent— O  no !  I  thought  there  was  no  use 
in  having  them  over  our  way ;  so  I  give  them  '  very 
valuable  information,'  Mr.  Lavender  said,  and  tipped 
me  a  tizzy  for  myself;  and  they're  off  to  Luton.  They 
showed  me  the  'andcuffs,  too— the  other  one  did— and 
he  clicked  the  dratted  things  on  my  wrist;  and  I  tell 
you,  I  believe  I  nearly  went  off  in  a  swound !  There's 
something  so  beastly  in  the  feel  of  them !  Begging  your 
pardon,  Mr.  Anne,"  he  added,  with  one  of  his  delicious 

255 


ST.  IVES 

changes  from  the  character  of  the  confidential  schoolboy 
into  that  of  the  trained,  respectful  servant. 

Well,  I  must  not  be  proud!  I  cannot  say  I  found  the 
subject  of  handcuffs  to  my  fancy;  and  it  was  with  more 
asperity  than  was  needful  that  1  reproved  him  for  the 
slip  about  the  name. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Ramornie,"  says  he,  touching  his  hat. 
"  Begging  your  pardon,  Mr.  Ramornie.  But  I've  been 
very  piticular,  sir,  up  to  now ;  and  you  may  trust  me  to 
be  very  piticular  in  the  future.     It  were  only  a  slip,  sir." 

"My  good  boy,"  said  I,  with  the  most  imposing 
severity,  "there  must  be  no  slips.  Be  so  good  as  to 
remember  that  my  life  is  at  stake." 

I  did  not  embrace  the  occasion  of  telling  him  how 
many  I  had  made  myself.  It  is  my  principle  that  an 
officer  must  never  be  wrong.  I  have  seen  two  divisions 
beating  their  brains  out  for  a  fortnight  against  a  worth- 
less and  quite  impregnable  castle  in  a  pass :  I  knew  we 
were  only  doing  it  for  discipline,  because  the  general 
had  said  so  at  first,  and  had  not  yet  found  any  way  out 
of  his  own  words;  and  1  highly  admired  his  force  of 
character,  and  throughout  these  operations  thought  my 
life  exposed  in  a  very  good  cause.  With  fools  and 
children,  which  included  Rowley,  the  necessity  was 
even  greater.  I  proposed  to  myself  to  be  infallible;  and 
even  when  he  expressed  some  wonder  at  the  purchase 
of  the  claret-coloured  chaise,  I  put  him  promptly  in  his 
place.  In  our  situation,  I  told  him,  everything  had  to 
be  sacrificed  to  appearances ;  doubtless,  in  a  hired  chaise, 
we  should  have  had  more  freedom,  but  look  at  the  dig- 
nity! I  was  so  positive,  that  I  had  sometimes  almost 
convinced  myself.     Not  for  long,  you  may  be  certain! 

256 


CHARACTER  AND  ACQUIREMENTS  OF  MR.  ROWLEY 

This  detestable  conveyance  always  appeared  to  me  to  be 
laden  with  Bow-street  officers,  and  to  have  a  placard 
upon  the  back  of  it  publishing  my  name  and  crimes. 
If  I  had  paid  seventy  pounds  to  get  the  thing,  I 
should  not  have  stuck  at  seven  hundred  to  be  safely 
rid  of  it. 

And  if  the  chaise  was  a  danger,  what  an  anxiety  was 
the  despatch-box  and  its  golden  cargo !  I  had  never  had 
a  care  but  to  draw  my  pay  and  spend  it;  I  had  lived 
happily  in  the  regiment,  as  in  my  father's  house,  fed 
by  the  great  Emperor's  commissariat  as  by  ubiquitous 
doves  of  Elijah— or,  my  faith!  if  anything  went  wrong 
with  the  commissariat,  helping  myself  with  the  best 
grace  in  the  world  from  the  next  peasant!  And  now 
I  began  to  feel  at  the  same  time  the  burthen  of  riches 
and  the  fear  of  destitution.  There  were  ten  thousand 
pounds  in  the  despatch-box,  but  I  reckoned  in  French 
money,  and  had  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  ago- 
nies ;  I  kept  it  under  my  hand  all  day,  I  dreamed  of  it  at 
night.  In  the  inns,  I  was  afraid  to  go  to  dinner  and 
afraid  to  go  to  sleep.  When  I  walked  up  a  hill,  I  durst 
not  leave  the  doors  of  the  claret-coloured  chaise.  Some- 
times I  would  change  the  disposition  of  the  funds :  there 
were  days  when  I  carried  as  much  as  five  or  six  thou- 
sand pounds  on  my  own  person,  and  only  the  residue 
continued  to  voyage  in  the  treasure  chest— days  when 
I  bulked  all  over  like  my  cousin,  crackled  to  a  touch 
with  bank  paper,  and  had  my  pockets  weighed  to  burst- 
ing point  with  sovereigns.  And  there  were  other  days 
when  I  wearied  of  the  thing— or  grew  ashamed  of  it— 
and  put  all  the  money  back  where  it  had  come  from: 
there  let  it  take  its  chance,  like  better  people!    In  short, 

257 


ST.  IVES 

I  set  Rowley  a  poor  example  of  consistency,  and  in 
philosophy,  none  at  all. 

Little  he  cared!  All  was  one  to  him  so  long  as  he 
was  amused,  and  I  never  knew  any  one  amused  more 
easily.  He  was  thrillingly  interested  in  life,  travel,  and 
his  own  melodramatic  position.  All  day  he  would  be 
looking  from  the  chaise  windows  with  ebullitions  of 
gratified  curiosity,  that  were  sometimes  justified  and 
sometimes  not,  and  that  (taken  altogether)  it  occasion- 
ally wearied  me  to  be  obliged  to  share.  I  can  look  at 
horses,  and  I  can  look  at  trees  too,  although  not  fond  of 
it.  But  why  should  I  look  at  a  lame  horse,  or  a  tree 
that  was  like  the  letter  Y  ?  What  exhilaration  could  I 
feel  in  viewing  a  cottage  that  was  the  same  colour  as 
"  the  second  from  the  miller's  "  in  some  place  where  I 
had  never  been  and  of  which  1  had  not  previously  heard  ? 
I  am  ashamed  to  complain,  but  there  were  moments 
when  my  juvenile  and  confidential  friend  weighed  heavy 
on  my  hands.  His  cackle  was  indeed  almost  continu- 
ous, but  it  was  never  unamiable.  He  showed  an  ami- 
able curiosity  when  he  was  asking  questions ;  an  amiable 
guilelessness  when  he  was  conferring  information.  And 
both  he  did  largely.  I  am  in  a  position  to  write  the 
biographies  of  Mr.  Rowley,  Mr.  Rowley's  father  and 
mother,  his  Aunt  Eliza,  and  the  miller's  dog;  and  noth- 
ing but  pity  for  the  reader,  and  some  misgivings  as  to 
the  law  of  copyright,  prevail  on  me  to  withhold  them. 

A  general  design  to  mould  himself  upon  my  example 
became  early  apparent,  and  1  had  not  the  heart  to  check  it. 
Hebegan  to  mimic  my  carriage ;  heacquired,  with  servile 
accuracy,  a  little  manner  I  had  of  shrugging  the  shoul- 
ders ;  and  1  may  say  it  was  by  observing  it  in  him  that 

358 


CHARACTER  AND   ACQUIREMENTS  OF  MR.  ROWLEY 

I  first  discovered  it  in  myself.  One  day  it  came  out  by 
chance  that  I  was  of  the  Catholic  religion.  He  became 
plunged  in  thought,  at  which  I  was  gently  glad.  Then 
suddenly,— 

"  Odd-rabbit  it!  I'll  be  Catholic  too!  "  he  broke  out. 
"  You  must  teach  me  it,  Mr.  Anne— I  mean,  Ramornie." 

1  dissuaded  him :  alleging  that  he  would  find  me  very 
imperfectly  informed  as  to  the  grounds  and  doctrines  of 
the  Church,  and  that,  after  all,  in  the  matter  of  religions, 
it  was  a  very  poor  idea  to  change.  "Of  course,  my 
Church  is  the  best,"  said  I;  "but  that  is  not  the  reason 
why  I  belong  to  it:  I  belong  to  it  because  it  was  the 
faith  of  my  house.  I  wish  to  take  my  chances  with 
my  own  people,  and  so  should  you.  If  it  is  a  question 
of  going  to  hell,  go  to  hell  like  a  gentleman  with  your 
ancestors." 

"  Well,  it  wasn't  that,"  he  admitted.  "  I  don't  know 
that  I  was  exactly  thinking  of  hell.  Then  there's  the 
inquisition,  too.     That's  rather  a  cawker,  you  know." 

"  And  I  don't  believe  you  were  thinking  of  anything 
in  the  world,"  said  I— which  put  a  period  to  his  respec- 
table conversion. 

He  consoled  himself  by  playing  for  a  while  on  a  cheap 
flageolet,  which  was  one  of  his  diversions,  and  to  which 
I  owed  many  intervals  of  peace.  When  he  first  pro- 
duced it,  in  the  joints,  from  his  pocket,  he  had  the  du- 
plicity to  ask  me  if  I  played  upon  it.  I  answered,  no; 
and  he  put  the  instrument  away  with  a  sigh  and  the 
remark  that  he  had  thought  I  might.  For  some  while 
he  resisted  the  unspeakable  temptation,  his  fingers  vis- 
ibly itching  and  twittering  about  his  pocket,  even  his 
interest  in  the  landscape  and  in  sporadic  anecdote  en- 

259 


ST.  IVES 

tirely  lost.  Presently  the  pipe  was  in  his  hands  again ; 
he  fitted,  unfitted,  refitted,  and  played  upon  it  in  dumb 
show  for  some  time. 

"  I  play  it  myself  a  little,"  says  he. 

**  Do  you  ?  "  said  I,  and  yawned. 

And  then  he  broke  down. 

"  Mr.  Ramornie,  if  you  please,  would  it  disturb  you, 
sir,  if  I  was  to  play  a  chune  ?  "  he  pleaded.  And  from 
that  hour,  the  tootling  of  the  flageolet  cheered  our  way. 

He  was  particularly  keen  on  the  details  of  battles,  sin- 
gle combats,  incidents  of  scouting  parties,  and  the  like. 
These  he  would  make  haste  to  cap  with  some  of  the 
exploits  of  Wallace,  the  only  hero  with  whom  he  had 
the  least  acquaintance.  His  enthusiasm  was  genuine 
and  pretty.  When  he  learned  we  were  going  to  Scot- 
land, "  Well,  then,"  he  broke  out,  "  I'll  see  where  Wal- 
lace lived  !"  And  presently  after,  he  fell  to  moralising. 
*'  It's  a  strange  thing,  sir,"  he  began,  "  that  I  seem  some- 
how to  have  always  the  wrong  sow  by  the  ear.  I'm  Eng- 
lish after  all,  and  I  glory  in  it.  My  eye !  don't  1,  though ! 
Let  some  of  your  Frenchies  come  over  here  to  invade, 
and  you'll  see  whether  or  not!  O  yes,  I'm  English  to 
the  backbone,  I  am.  And  yet  look  at  me!  I  got  hold 
of  this  'ere  William  Wallace  and  took  to  him  right  off; 
I  never  heard  of  such  a  man  before!  And  then  you 
came  along,  and  I  took  to  you.  And  both  the  two  of 
you  were  my  born  enemies !  I— I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr. 
Ramornie,  but  would  you  mind  it  very  much  if  you 
didn't  go  for  to  do  anything  against  England"— he 
brought  the  word  out  suddenly,  like  something  hot— 
"  when  I  was  along  of  you  ?  " 
I  was  more  affected  than  I  can  tell. 
360 


CHARACTER  AND   ACQUIREMENTS  OF  MR.  ROWLEY 

"  Rowley,"  I  said,  "  you  need  have  no  fear.  By  how 
much  I  love  my  own  honour,  by  so  much  I  will  take 
care  to  protect  yours.  We  are  but  fraternising  at  the 
outposts,  as  soldiers  do.  When  the  bugle  calls,  my  boy, 
we  must  face  each  other,  one  for  England,  one  for  France, 
and  may  God  defend  the  right!  " 

So  I  spoke  at  the  moment;  but  for  all  my  brave  airs, 
the  boy  had  wounded  me  in  a  vital  quarter.  His  words 
continued  to  ring  in  my  hearing.  There  was  no  remis- 
sion all  day  of  my  remorseful  thoughts;  and  that  night 
(which  we  lay  at  Lichfield,  I  believe)  there  was  no  sleep 
for  me  in  my  bed.  I  put  out  the  candle  and  lay  down 
with  a  good  resolution ;  and  in  a  moment,  all  was  light 
about  me  like  a  theatre,  and  I  saw  myself  upon  the  stage 
of  it,  playing  ignoble  parts.  I  remembered  France  and 
my  Emperor,  now  depending  on  the  arbitrament  of  war, 
bent  down,  fighting  on  their  knees  and  with  their  teeth 
against  so  many  and  such  various  assailants.  And  1 
burned  with  shame  to  be  here  in  England,  cherishing  an 
English  fortune,  pursuing  an  English  mistress,  and  not 
there,  to  handle  a  musket  in  my  native  fields,  and  to 
manure  them  with  my  body  if  I  fell.  I  remembered 
that  1  belonged  to  France.  All  my  fathers  had  fought 
for  her,  and  some  had  died ;  the  voice  in  my  throat,  the 
sight  of  my  eyes,  -the  tears  that  now  sprang  there,  the 
whole  man  of  me,  was  fashioned  of  French  earth  and 
born  of  a  French  mother;  I  had  been  tended  and  caressed 
by  a  succession  of  the  daughters  of  France,  the  fairest, 
the  most  ill-starred;  and  I  had  fought  and  conquered 
shoulder  to  shoulder  with  her  sons.  A  soldier,  a 
noble,  of  the  proudest  and  bravest  race  in  Europe,  it 
had  been  left  to  the  prattle  of  a  hobbledehoy  lackey  in 

261 


ST.  IVES 

an  English  chaise  to  recall  me  to  the  consciousness  of 
duty. 

When  I  saw  how  it  was,  I  did  not  lose  time  in  inde- 
cision. The  old  classical  conflict  of  love  and  honour 
being  once  fairly  before  me,  it  did  not  cost  me  a  thought. 
1  was  a  Saint-Yves  de  Keroual ;  and  I  decided  to  strike 
off  on  the  morrow  for  Wakefield  and  Burchell  Fenn, 
and  embark,  as  soon  as  it  should  be  morally  possible, 
for  the  succour  of  my  down-trodden  fatherland  and  my 
beleaguered  Emperor.  Pursuant  on  this  resolve,  I  leaped 
from  bed,  made  a  light,  and  as  the  watchman  was  cry- 
ing half-past  two  in  the  dark  streets  of  Lichfield,  sat 
down  to  pen  a  letter  of  farewell  to  Flora.  And  then— 
whether  it  was  the  sudden  chill  of  the  night,  whether 
it  came  by  association  of  ideas  from  the  remembrance 
of  Swanston  Cottage  I  know  not,  but  there  appeared 
before  me— to  the  barking  of  sheep-dogs— a  couple  of 
snuffy  and  shambling  figures,  each  wrapped  in  a  plaid, 
each  armed  with  a  rude  staff;  and  I  was  immediately 
bowed  down  to  have  forgotten  them  so  long,  and  of 
late  to  have  thought  of  them  so  cavalierly. 

Sure  enough  there  was  my  errand!  As  a  private 
person  1  was  neither  French  nor  English ;  1  was  some- 
thing else  first:  a  loyal  gentleman,  an  honest  man.  Sim 
and  Candlish  must  not  be  left  to  pay  the  penalty  of  my 
unfortunate  blow.  They  held  my  honour  tacitly  pledged 
to  succour  them ;  and  it  is  a  sort  of  stoical  refinement 
entirely  foreign  to  my  nature  to  set  the  political  obliga- 
tion above  the  personal  and  private.  If  France  fell  in 
the  interval  for  the  lack  of  Anne  de  Saint-Yves,  fall  she 
must!  But  I  was  both  surprised  and  humiliated  to  have 
had  so  plain  a  duty  bound  upon  me  for  so  long— and 

262 


CHARACTER  AND  ACQUIREMENTS  OF  MR.  ROWLEY 

for  so  long  to  have  neglected  and  forgotten  it.  I  think: 
any  brave  man  will  understand  me  when  I  say  that  I 
went  to  bed  and  to  sleep  with  a  conscience  very  much 
relieved,  and  woke  again  in  the  morning  with  a  light 
heart.  The  very  danger  of  the  enterprise  reassured  me ; 
to  save  Sim  and  Candlish  (suppose  the  worst  to  come 
to  the  worst)  it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to  declare 
myself  in  a  court  of  justice,  with  consequences  which 
1  did  not  dare  to  dwell  upon ;  it  could  never  be  said  that 
I  had  chosen  the  cheap  and  the  easy,— only  that  in  a 
very  perplexing  competition  of  duties  I  had  risked  my 
life  for  the  most  immediate. 

We  resumed  the  journey  with  more  diligence:  thence- 
forward posted  day  and  night;  did  not  halt  beyond 
what  was  necessary  for  meals ;  and  the  postilions  were 
excited  by  gratuities,  after  the  habit  of  my  cousin  Alain. 
For  twopence  1  could  have  gone  farther  and  taken  four 
horses ;  so  extreme  was  my  haste,  running  as  I  was  be- 
fore the  terrors  of  an  awakened  conscience.  But  I  feared 
to  be  conspicuous.  Even  as  it  was,  we  attracted  only 
too  much  attention,  with  our  pair  and  that  white  ele- 
phant, the  seventy-pounds-worth  of  claret-coloured 
chaise. 

Meanwhile,  I  was  ashamed  to  look  Rowley  in  the 
face.  The  young  shaver  had  contrived  to  put  me 
wholly  in  the  wrong;  he  had  cost  me  a  night's  rest  and 
a  severe  and  healthful  humiliation;  and  I  was  grateful 
and  embarrassed  in  his  society.  This  would  never  do ; 
it  was  contrary  to  all  my  ideas  of  discipline :  if  the  offi- 
cer has  to  blush  before  the  private,  or  the  master  before 
the  servant,  nothing  is  left  to  hope  for  but  discharge  or 
death.     I  hit  upon  the  idea  of  teaching  him  French ;  and 

263 


ST.  IVES 

accordingly,  from  Lichfield,  I  became  the  distracted 
master,  and  he  the  scholar— how  shall  I  say?  indefati- 
gable, but  uninspired.  His  interest  never  flagged.  He 
would  hear  the  same  word  twenty  times  with  profound 
refreshment,  mispronounce  it  in  several  different  ways, 
and  forget  it  again  with  magical  celerity.  Say,  it  hap- 
pened to  be  stirrup.  "  No,  I  don't  seem  to  remember 
that  word,  Mr.  Anne,"  he  would  say:  "  it  don't  seem  to 
stick  to  me,  that  word  don't."  And  then,  when  I  had 
told  it  him  again,  '' Etrier!"  he  would  cry.  "To  be 
sure!  I  had  it  on  the  tip  of  my  tongue,  fierier!" 
(going  wrong  already,  as  if  by  a  fatal  instinct).  "  What 
will  I  remember  it  by,  now  ?  Why,  interior,  to  be 
sure!  I'll  remember  it  by  its  being  something  that  ain't 
in  the  interior  of  a  horse."  And  when  next  I  had  occa- 
sion to  ask  him  the  French  for  stirrup,  it  was  a  toss-up 
whether  he  had  forgotten  all  about  it,  or  gave  me  exte- 
rior for  an  answer.  He  was  never  a  hair  discouraged. 
He  seemed  to  consider  that  he  was  covering  the  ground 
at  a  normal  rate.  He  came  up  smiling,  day  after  day. 
*'Now,  sir,  shall  we  do  our  French.?  "  he  would  say; 
and  I  would  put  questions,  and  elicit  copious  commen- 
tary and  explanation,  but  never  the  shadow  of  an  an- 
swer. My  hands  fell  to  my  sides;  I  could  have  wept 
to  hear  him.  When  I  reflected  that  he  had  as  yet 
learned  nothing,  and  what  a  vast  deal  more  there  was 
for  him  to  learn,  the  period  of  these  lessons  seemed  to 
unroll  before  me  vast  as  eternity,  and  I  saw  myself  a 
teacher  of  a  hundred,  and  Rowley  a  pupil  of  ninety, 
still  hammering  on  the  rudiments!  The  wretched  boy, 
I  should  say,  was  quite  unspoiled  by  the  inevitable 
familiarities  of  the  journey.     He  turned  out  at  each 

264 


CHARACTER  AND   ACQUIREMENTS  OF  MR.  ROWLEY 

Stage  the  pink  of  serving-lads,  deft,  civil,  prompt,  at- 
tentive, touching  his  hat  like  an  automaton,  raising  the 
status  of  Mr.  Ramornie  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  inn  by  his 
smiling  service,  and  seeming  capable  of  anything  in  the 
world  but  the  one  thing  I  had  chosen— learning  French! 


a55 


XXIII 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  RUNAWAY  COUPLE 

The  country  had  for  some  time  back  been  changing 
in  character.  By  a  thousand  indications  I  could  judge 
that  I  was  again  drawing  near  to  Scotland.  I  saw  it 
written  in  the  face  of  the  hills,  in  the  growth  of  the 
trees,  and  in  the  glint  of  the  water-brooks  that  kept  the 
highroad  company.  It  might  have  occurred  to  me,  also, 
that  I  was,  at  the  same  time,  approaching  a  place  of 
some  fame  in  Britain— Gretna  Green.  Over  the  same 
leagues  of  road— which  Rowley  and  I  now  traversed  in 
the  claret-coloured  chaise,  to  the  note  of  the  flageolet 
and  the  French  lesson— how  many  pairs  of  lovers  had 
gone  bowling  northward  to  the  music  of  sixteen  scam- 
pering horseshoes ;  and  how  many  irate  persons,  parents, 
uncles,  guardians,  evicted  rivals,  had  come  tearing  after, 
clapping  the  frequent  red  face  to  the  chaise  window, 
lavishly  shedding  their  gold  about  the  post-houses, 
sedulously  loading  and  reloading,  as  they  went,  their 
avenging  pistols!  But  I  doubt  if  I  had  thought  of  it  at 
all,  before  a  wayside  hazard  swept  me  into  the  thick  of 
an  adventure  of  this  nature ;  and  I  found  myself  playing 
providence  with  other  people's  lives,  to  my  own  ad- 
miration at  the  moment— and  subsequently  to  my  own 
brief  but  passionate  regret. 

266 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  RUNAWAY  COUPLE 

At  rather  an  ugly  corner  of  an  up-hill  reach,  I  came 
on  the  wreck  of  a  chaise  lying  on  one  side  in  the  ditch, 
a  man  and  a  woman  in  animated  discourse  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  road,  and  the  two  postilions,  each  with  his 
pair  of  horses,  looking  on  and  laughing  from  the 
saddle. 

"  Morning  breezes !  here's  a  smash !  "  cried  Rowley, 
pocketing  his  flageolet  in  the  middle  of  the  Tight  Little 
Island. 

I  was  perhaps  more  conscious  of  the  moral  smash 
than  the  physical— more  alive  to  broken  hearts  than  to 
broken  chaises;  for,  as  plain  as  the  sun  at  morning, 
there  was  a  screw  loose  in  this  runaway  match.  It  is 
always  a  bad  sign  when  the  lower  classes  laugh :  their 
taste  in  humour  is  both  poor  and  sinister;  and  for  a  man 
running  the  posts  with  four  horses,  presumably  with 
open  pockets,  and  in  the  company  of  the  most  entranc- 
ing little  creature  conceivable,  to  have  come  down  so  far 
as  to  be  laughed  at  by  his  own  postilions,  was  only  to 
be  explained  on  the  double  hypothesis,  that  he  was  a 
fool,  and  no  gentleman. 

I  have  said  they  were  man  and  woman.  I  should 
have  said  man  and  child.  She  was  certainly  not  more 
than  seventeen,  pretty  as  an  angel,  just  plump  enough 
to  damn  a  saint,  and  dressed  in  various  shades  of  blue, 
from  her  stockings  to  her  saucy  cap,  in  a  kind  of  taking 
gamut,  the  top  note  of  which  she  flung  me  in  a  beam 
from  her  too  appreciative  eye.  There  was  no  doubt 
about  the  case:  I  saw  it  all.  From  a  boarding-school, 
a  blackboard,  a  piano,  and  dementi's  Sonatinas,  the 
child  had  made  a  rash  adventure  upon  life  in  the  com- 
pany of  a  half-bred  hawbuck;  and  she  was  already  not 

267 


ST.  IVES 

only  regretting  it,  but  expressing  her  regret  with  point 
and  pungency. 

As  I  alighted,  they  both  paused  with  that  unmistak- 
able air  of  being  interrupted  in  a  scene.  I  uncovered  to 
the  lady,  and  placed  my  services  at  their  disposal. 

It  was  the  man  who  answered.  "  There's  no  use  in 
shamming,  sir,"  said  he.  "This  lady  and  I  have  run 
away,  and  her  father's  after  us:  road  to  Gretna,  sir. 
And  here  have  these  nincompoops  spilt  us  in  the  ditch 
and  smashed  the  chaise!  " 

"Very  provoking,"  said  I. 

"I  don't  know  when  I've  been  so  provoked!  '^  cried 
he,  with  a  glance  down  the  road  of  mortal  terror. 

"  The  father  is  no  doubt  very  much  incensed  ?  "  I  pur- 
sued civilly. 

"  O  God!  "  cried  the  hawbuck.  "  In  short,  you  see, 
we  must  get  out  of  this.  And  I'll  tell  you  what— it  may 
seem  cool,  but  necessity  has  no  law— if  you  would  lend 
us  your  chaise  to  the  next  post-house,  it  would  be  the 
very  thing,  sir." 

"  I  confess  it  seems  cool,"  I  replied. 

"  What's  that  you  say,  sir  ?  "  he  snapped. 

"I  was  agreeing  with  you,"  said  I.  "Yes,  it  does 
seem  cool;  and  what  is  more  to  the  point,  it  seems  un- 
necessary. This  thing  can  be  arranged  in  a  more  satis- 
factory manner  otherwise,  I  think.  You  can  doubtless 
ride  ?  " 

This  opened  a  door  on  the  matter  of  their  previous 
dispute,  and  the  fellow  appeared  life-sized  in  his  true 
colours.  "  That's  what  I've  been  telling  her :  that,  damn 
her!  she  must  ride!"  he  broke  out.  "And  if  the  gen- 
tleman's of  the  same  mind,  why,  damme,  you  shall!  " 

268 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  RUNAWAY  COUPLE 

As  he  said  so,  he  made  a  snatch  at  her  wrist,  which 
she  evaded  with  horror. 

I  stepped  between  them. 

"No,  sir,"  said  I,  "the  lady  shall  not." 

He  turned  on  me  raging.  "  And  who  are  you  to  in- 
terfere ?  "  he  roared. 

"There  is  here  no  question  of  who  I  am,"  I  replied. 
"  I  may  be  the  devil  or  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  for 
what  you  know,  or  need  know.  The  point  is  that  I 
can  help  you— it  appears  that  nobody  else  can;  and  I 
will  tell  you  how  I  propose  to  do  it.  I  will  give  the  lady 
a  seat  in  my  chaise,  if  you  will  return  the  compliment 
by  allowing  my  servant  to  ride  one  of  your  horses." 

I  thought  he  would  have  sprung  at  my  throat. 

"  You  have  always  the  alternative  before  you :  to  wait 
here  for  the  arrival  of  papa,"  I  added. 

And  that  settled  him.  He  cast  another  haggard  look 
down  the  road,  and  capitulated. 

"I  am  sure,  sir,  the  lady  is  very  much  obliged  to 
you,"  he  said,  with  an  ill  grace. 

I  gave  her  my  hand ;  she  mounted  like  a  bird  into  the 
chaise;  Rowley,  grinning  from  ear  to  ear,  closed  the 
door  behind  us;  the  two  impudent  rascals  of  post-boys 
cheered  and  laughed  aloud  as  we  drove  off;  and  my 
own  postilion  urged  his  horses  at  once  into  a  rattling 
trot.  It  was  plain  I  was  supposed  by  all  to  have  done 
a  very  dashing  act,  and  ravished  the  bride  from  the 
ravisher. 

In  the  meantime  I  stole  a  look  at  the  little  lady.  She 
was  in  a  state  of  pitiable  discomposure,  and  her  arms 
shook  on  her  lap  in  her  black  lace  mittens. 

"  Madam—"  I  began. 

269 


ST.  IVES 

And  she,  in  the  same  moment,  finding  her  voice:  "  O, 
what  you  must  think  of  me!  " 

"  Madam,"  said  I,  "  what  must  any  gentleman  think, 
when  he  sees  youth,  beauty,  and  innocence  in  distress  ? 
I  wish  I  could  tell  you  that  I  was  old  enough  to  be  your 
father;  I  think  we  must  give  that  up,"  I  continued,  with 
a  smile.  "  But  I  will  tell  you  something  about  myself 
which  ought  to  do  as  well,  and  to  set  that  little  heart  at 
rest  in  my  society.  I  am  a  lover.  May  I  say  it  of  my- 
self—for I  am  not  quite  used  to  all  the  niceties  of  Eng- 
lish—that I  am  a  true  lover?  There  is  one  whom  I 
admire,  adore,  obey;  she  is  no  less  good  than  she  is 
beautiful;  if  she  were  here,  she  would  take  you  to  her 
arms :  conceive  that  she  has  sent  me— that  she  has  said 
to  me,  *  Go,  be  her  knight!' " 

"  O,  I  know  she  must  be  sweet,  I  know  she  must  be 
worthy  of  you !  "  cried  the  little  lady.  "  She  would 
never  forget  female  decorum— nor  make  the  terrible 
erratum  I've  done! " 

And  at  this  she  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept. 

This  did  not  forward  matters:  it  was  in  vain  that  I 
begged  her  to  be  more  composed  and  to  tell  me  a  plain, 
consecutive  tale  of  her  misadventures ;  but  she  contin- 
ued instead  to  pour  forth  the  most  extraordinary  mix- 
ture of  the  correct  school-miss  and  the  poor  untutored 
little  piece  of  womanhood  in  a  false  position— of  en- 
grafted pedantry  and  incoherent  nature. 

"I  am  certain  it  must  have  been  judicial  blindness," 
she  sobbed.  "  I  can't  think  how  I  didn't  see  it,  but  I 
didn't ;  and  he  isn't,  is  he  ?  And  then  a  curtain  rose  .  .  . 
O,  what  a  moment  was  that!  But  I  knew  at  once  that 
you  were;  you  had  but  to  appear  from  your  carriage,  and 

370 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  RUNAWAY  COUPLE 

i  knew  it.   O,  she  must  be  a  fortunate  young  lady !   And 
I  have  no  fear  with  you,  none— a  perfect  confidence." 

"  Madam,"  said  I,  "  a  gentleman." 

"That's  what  I  mean— a  gentleman,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  And  he— and  that— Z?^  isn't.  O,  how  shall  I  dare  meet 
father!  "  And  disclosing  to  me  her  tear-stained  face, 
and  opening  her  arms  with  a  tragic  gesture :  "  And  I  am 
quite  disgraced  before  all  the  young  ladies,  my  school- 
companions!  "  she  added. 

"  O,  not  so  bad  as  that!  "  I  cried.    "  Come,  come,  you 

exaggerate,  my  dear  Miss ?   Excuse  me  if  I  am  too 

familiar:  I  have  not  yet  heard  your  name." 

"  My  name  is  Dorothy  Greensleeves,  sir:  why  should 
I  conceal  it  ?  I  fear  it  will  only  serve  to  point  an  adage 
to  future  generations,  and  I  had  meant  so  differently! 
There  was  no  young  female  in  the  county  more  emu- 
lous to  be  thought  well  of  than  I.  And  what  a  fall  was 
there!  O,  dear  me,  what  a  wicked,  piggish  donkey  of 
a  girl  I  have  made  of  myself,  to  be  sure!  And  there  is 
no  hope!     O,  Mr. " 

And  at  that  she  paused  and  asked  my  name. 

I  am  not  writing  my  eulogium  for  the  Academy;  I 
will  admit  it  was  unpardonably  imbecile,  but  I  told  it 
her.  If  you  had  been  there— and  seen  her,  ravishingly 
pretty  and  little,  a  baby  in  years  and  mind— and  heard 
her  talking  like  a  book,  with  so  much  of  schoolroom 
propriety  in  her  manner,  with  such  an  innocent  despair 
in  the  matter— you  would  probably  have  told  her  yours. 
She  repeated  it  after  me. 

"  I  shall  pray  for  you  all  my  life,"  she  said.  "  Every 
night,  when  I  retire  to  rest,  the  last  thing  I  shall  do  is 
to  remember  you  by  name." 

371 


ST.  IVES 

Presently  I  succeeded  in  winning  from  her  her  tale, 
which  was  much  what  I  had  anticipated:  a  tale  of  a 
schoolhouse,  a  walled  garden,  a  fruit-tree  that  concealed 
a  bench,  an  impudent  raff  posturing  in  church,  an  ex- 
change of  flowers  and  vows  over  the  garden  wall,  a  silly 
schoolmate  for  a  confidante,  a  chaise  and  four,  and  the 
most  immediate  and  perfect  disenchantment  on  the  part 
of  the  little  lady.  "  And  there  is  nothing  to  be  done!  '* 
she  wailed  in  conclusion.  "  My  error  is  irretrievable,  I 
am  quite  forced  to  that  conclusion.  O,  M.  de  Saint-Yves  I 
Who  would  have  thought  that  I  could  have  been  such 
a  blind,  wicked  donkey!  " 

I  should  have  said  before— only  that  I  really  do  not 
know  when  it  came  in— that  we  had  been  overtaken  by 
the  two  post-boys,  Rowley  and  Mr.  Bellamy,  which 
was  the  hawbuck's  name,  bestriding  the  four  post- 
horses  ;  and  that  these  formed  a  sort  of  cavalry  escort, 
riding  now  before,  now  behind  the  chaise,  and  Bellamy 
occasionally  posturing  at  the  window  and  obliging  us 
with  some  of  his  conversation.  He  was  so  ill  received 
that  I  declare  I  was  tempted  to  pity  him,  remembering 
from  what  a  height  he  had  fallen,  and  how  few  hours 
ago  it  was  since  the  lady  had  herself  fled  to  his  arms, 
all  blushes  and  ardour.  Well,  these  great  strokes  of 
fortune  usually  befall  the  unworthy,  and  Bellamy  was 
now  the  legitimate  object  of  my  commiseration  and  the 
ridicule  of  his  own  post-boys ! 

"Miss  Dorothy,"  said  I,  "you  wish  to  be  delivered 
from  this  man  ?  " 

"O,  if  it  were  possible!  "  she  cried.  "But  not  by 
violence." 

"  Not  in  the  least,  ma'am,"  I  replied.  "  The  simplest 
373 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  RUNAWAY  COUPLE 

thing  in  life.  We  are  in  a  civilised  country ;  the  man's 
a  malefactor—" 

"O,  never!"  she  cried.  "Do  not  even  dream  it! 
With  all  his  faults,  I  know  he  is  not  that" 

"Anyway,  he's  in  the  wrong  in  this  affair— on  the 
wrong  side  of  the  law,  call  it  what  you  please,"  said  I; 
and  with  that,  our  four  horsemen  having  for  the  mo- 
ment headed  us  by  a  considerable  interval,  I  hailed  my 
post-boy  and  inquired  who  was  the  nearest  magistrate 
and  where  he  lived.  Archdeacon  Clitheroe,  he  told  me, 
a  prodigious  dignitary,  and  one  who  lived  but  a  lane  or 
two  back,  and  at  the  distance  of  only  a  mile  or  two  out 
of  the  direct  road.     I  showed  him  the  king's  medallion. 

"  Take  the  lady  there,  and  at  full  gallop,"  I  cried. 

"  Right,  sir!     Mind  yourself,"  says  the  postilion. 

And  before  I  could  have  thought  it  possible,  he  had 
turned  the  carriage  to  the  right-about  and  we  were  gal- 
loping south. 

Our  outriders  were  quick  to  remark  and  imitate  the 
manoeuvre,  and  came  flying  after  us  with  a  vast  deal  of 
indiscriminate  shouting;  so  that  the  fme,  sober  picture 
of  a  carriage  and  escort,  that  we  had  presented  but  a 
moment  back,  was  transformed  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye  into  the  image  of  a  noisy  fox-chase.  The  two 
postilions  and  my  own  saucy  rogue  were,  of  course, 
disinterested  actors  in  the  comedy;  they  rode  for  the 
mere  sport,  keeping  in  a  body,  their  mouths  full  of 
laughter,  waving  their  hats  as  they  came  on,  and  crying 
(as  the  fancy  struck  them)  "Tally-ho!  "  "Stop  thief!  " 
"  A  highwayman !  A  highwayman !  "  It  was  other 
guesswork  with  Bellamy.  That  gentleman  no  sooner 
observed  our  change  of  direction  than  he  turned  his 

273 


ST.  IVES 

horse  with  so  much  violence  that  the  poor  animal  was 
almost  cast  upon  its  side,  and  launched  her  in  immedi- 
ate and  desperate  pursuit.  As  he  approached  I  saw  that 
his  face  was  deadly  white  and  that  he  carried  a  drawn 
pistol  in  his  hand.  I  turned  at  once  to  the  poor  little 
bride  that  was  to  have  been,  and  now  was  not  to  be; 
she,  upon  her  side,  deserting  the  other  window,  turned 
as  if  to  meet  me. 

"  O,  O,  don't  let  him  kill  me!  "  she  screamed. 

"Never  fear,"  I  replied. 

Her  face  was  distorted  with  terror.  Her  hands  took 
hold  upon  me  with  the  instinctive  clutch  of  an  infant. 
The  chaise  gave  a  flying  lurch,  which  took  the  feet  from 
under  me  and  tumbled  us  anyhow  upon  the  seat.  And 
almost  in  the  same  moment  the  head  of  Bellamy  ap- 
peared in  the  window  which  Missy  had  left  free  for  him. 

Conceive  the  situation!  The  little  lady  and  I  were 
falling— or  had  just  fallen— backward  on  the  seat,  and 
offered  to  the  eye  a  somewhat  ambiguous  picture.  The 
chaise  was  speeding  at  a  furious  pace,  and  with  the 
most  violent  leaps  and  lurches,  along  the  highway. 
Into  this  bounding  receptacle  Bellamy  interjected  his 
head,  his  pistol  arm,  and  his  pistol;  and  since  his  own 
horse  was  travelling  still  faster  than  the  chaise,  he  must 
withdraw  all  of  them  again  in  the  inside  of  the  fraction 
of  a  minute.  He  did  so,  but  he  left  the  charge  of  the 
pistol  behind  him— whether  by  design  or  accident  I  shall 
never  know,  and  I  dare  say  he  has  forgotten !  Probably 
he  had  only  meant  to  threaten,  in  hopes  of  causing  us 
to  arrest  our  flight.  In  the  same  moment  came  the  ex- 
plosion and  a  pitiful  cry  from  Missy ;  and  my  gentleman, 
making  certain  he  had  struck  her,  went  down  the  road 

274 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  RUNAWAY  COUPLE 

pursued  by  the  furies,  turned  at  the  first  corner,  took  a 
flying  leap  over  the  thorn  hedge,  and  disappeared  across 
country  in  the  least  possible  time. 

Rowley  was  ready  and  eager  to  pursue;  but  I  with- 
held him,  thinking  we  were  excellently  quit  of  Mr. 
Bellamy,  at  no  more  cost  than  a  scratch  on  the  forearm 
and  a  bullet-hole  in  the  left-hand  claret-coloured  panel. 
And  accordingly,  but  now  at  a  more  decent  pace,  we 
proceeded  on  our  way  to  Archdeacon  Clitheroe's.  Missy's 
gratitude  and  admiration  were  aroused  to  a  high  pitch 
by  this  dramatic  scene,  and  what  she  was  pleased  to  call 
my  wound.  She  must  dress  it  for  me  with  her  hand- 
kerchief, a  service  which  she  rendered  me  even  with 
tears.  1  could  well  have  spared  them,  not  loving  on  the 
whole  to  be  made  ridiculous,  and  the  injury  being  in  the 
nature  of  a  cat's  scratch.  Indeed,  I  would  have  sug- 
gested for  her  kind  care  rather  the  cure  of  my  coat- 
sleeve,  which  had  suffered  worse  in  the  encounter;  but 
I  was  too  wise  to  risk  the  anti-climax.  That  she  had 
been  rescued  by  a  hero,  that  the  hero  should  have  been 
wounded  in  the  affray,  and  his  wound  bandaged  with 
her  handkerchief  (which  it  could  not  even  bloody), 
ministered  incredibly  to  the  recovery  of  her  self-respect; 
and  1  could  hear  her  relate  the  incident  to  "  the  young 
ladies,  my  school-companions,"  in  the  most  approved 
manner  of  Mrs.  Radclifife !  To  have  insisted  on  the  torn 
coat-sleeve  would  have  been  unmannerly,  if  not  inhu- 
man. 

Presently  the  residence  of  the  archdeacon  began  to 
heave  in  sight.  A  chaise  and  four  smoking  horses  stood 
by  the  steps,  and  made  way  for  us  on  our  approach; 
and  even  as  we  alighted  there  appeared  from  the  inte- 

275 


ST.  IVES 

rior  of  the  house  a  tall  ecclesiastic,  and  beside  him  a 
little,  headstrong,  ruddy  man,  in  a  towering  passion  and 
brandishing  over  his  head  a  roll  of  paper.  At  sight  of 
him  Miss  Dorothy  flung  herself  on  her  knees  with  the 
most  moving  adjurations,  calling  him  father,  assuring 
him  she  was  wholly  cured  and  entirely  repentant  of  her 
disobedience,  and  entreating  forgiveness;  and  I  soon 
saw  that  she  need  fear  no  great  severity  from  Mr. 
Greensleeves,  who  showed  himself  extraordinarily  fond, 
loud,  greedy  of  caresses  and  prodigal  of  tears. 

To  give  myself  a  countenance,  as  well  as  to  have  all 
ready  for  the  road  when  I  should  find  occasion,  I  turned 
to  quit  scores  with  Bellamy's  two  postilions.  They  had 
not  the  least  claim  on  me,  but  one  of  which  they  were 
quite  ignorant— that  I  was  a  fugitive.  It  is  the  worst 
feature  of  that  false  position  that  every  gratuity  becomes 
a  case  of  conscience.  You  must  not  leave  behind  you 
any  one  discontented  nor  any  one  grateful.  But  the 
whole  business  had  been  such  a  "  hurrah-boys  "  from 
the  beginning,  and  had  gone  off  in  the  fifth  act  so  like 
a  melodrama,  in  explosions,  reconciliations,  and  the 
rape  of  a  post-horse,  that  it  was  plainly  impossible  to 
keep  it  covered.  It  was  plain  it  would  have  to  be 
talked  over  in  all  the  inn  kitchens  for  thirty  miles  about, 
and  likely  for  six  months  to  come.  It  only  remained 
for  me,  therefore,  to  settle  on  that  gratuity  which  should 
be  least  conspicuous— so  large  that  nobody  could  grum- 
ble, so  small  that  nobody  would  be  tempted  to  boast. 
My  decision  was  hastily  and  not  wisely  taken.  The 
one  fellow  spat  on  his  tip  (so  he  called  it)  for  luck;  the 
other,  developing  a  sudden  streak  of  piety,  prayed  God 
bless  me  with  fervour.     It  seemed  a  demonstration  was 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  RUNAWAY  COUPLE 

brewing,  and  I  determined  to  be  off  at  once.  Bidding 
my  own  post-boy  and  Rowley  be  in  readiness  for  an 
immediate  start,  I  reascended  the  terrace  and  presented 
myself,  hat  in  hand,  before  Mr.  Greensleeves  and  the 
archdeacon. 

"You  will  excuse  me,  I  trust,"  said  I.  "I  think 
shame  to  interrupt  this  agreeable  scene  of  family  effu- 
sion, which  I  have  been  privileged  in  some  small  degree 
to  bring  about." 

And  at  these  words  the  storm  broke. 

"Small  degree!  small  degree,  sir!  "  cries  the  father; 
"that  shall  not  pass,  Mr.  St.  Eaves!  If  I've  got  my 
darling  back,  and  none  the  worse  for  that  vagabone 
rascal,  I  know  whom  I  have  to  thank.  Shake  hands 
with  me— up  to  the  elbows,  sir!  A  Frenchman  you 
may  be,  but  you're  one  of  the  right  breed,  by  God! 
And,  by  God,  sir,  you  may  have  anything  you  care  to 
ask  of  me,  down  to  Dolly's  hand,  by  God!  " 

All  this  he  roared  out  in  a  voice  surprisingly  power- 
ful from  so  small  a  person.  Every  word  was  thus  au- 
dible to  the  servants,  who  had  followed  them  out  of 
the  house  and  now  congregated  about  us  on  the  terrace, 
as  well  as  to  Rowley  and  the  five  postilions  on  the 
gravel  sweep  below.  The  sentiments  expressed  were 
popular;  some  ass,  whom  the  devil  moved  to  be  my 
enemy,  proposed  three  cheers,  and  they  were  given 
with  a  will.  To  hear  my  own  name  resounding  amid 
acclamations  in  the  hills  of  Westmoreland  was  flatter- 
ing, perhaps;  but  it  was  inconvenient  at  a  moment 
when  (as  I  was  morally  persuaded)  police  handbills 
were  already  speeding  after  me  at  the  rate  of  a  hundred 
miles  a  day. 

277 


ST.  IVES 

Nor  was  that  the  end  of  it.  The  archdeacon  must 
present  his  compliments,  and  press  upon  me  some  of 
his  West  India  sherry,  and  I  was  carried  into  a  vastly 
fine  library,  where  I  was  presented  to  his  lady  wife. 
While  we  were  at  sherry  in  the  library,  ale  was  handed 
round  upon  the  terrace.  Speeches  were  made,  hands 
were  shaken.  Missy  (at  her  father's  request)  kissed  me 
farewell,  and  the  whole  party  reaccompanied  me  to  the 
terrace,  where  they  stood  waving  hats  and  handker- 
chiefs, and  crying  farewells  to  all  the  echoes  of  the 
mountains  until  the  chaise  had  disappeared. 

The  echoes  of  the  mountains  were  engaged  in  saying 
to  me  privately :  "  You  fool,  you  have  done  it  now !  " 

"  They  do  seem  to  have  got  'old  of  your  name,  Mr. 
Anne,"  said  Rowley.     "  It  weren't  my  fault  this  time/' 

"  It  was  one  of  those  accidents  that  can  never  be  fore- 
seen," said  I,  affecting  a  dignity  that  I  was  far  from 
feeling.     "Some  one  recognised  me." 

"  Which  on  'em,  Mr.  Anne  ?  "  said  the  rascal. 

"  That  is  a  senseless  question ;  it  can  make  no  differ- 
ence who  it  was,"  I  returned. 

"No,  nor  that  it  can't!  "  cried  Rowley.  " I  say,  Mr. 
Anne,  sir,  it's  what  you  would  call  a  jolly  mess,  ain't  it  ? 
looks  like  *  clean  bowled  out  in  the  middle  stump,'  don't 
it?" 

"  I  fail  to  understand  you,  Rowley." 

"  Well,  what  I  mean  is,  what  are  we  to  do  about  this 
one  ?  "  pointing  to  the  postilion  in  front  of  us,  as  he 
alternately  hid  and  revealed  his  patched  breeches  to  the 
trot  of  his  horse.  "  He  see  you  get  in  this  morning 
under  Mr.  Ramornie—I  was  very  piticular  to  Mr, 
Ramornie  you,  if  you  remember,  sir— and  he  see  you 

378 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  RUNAWAY  COUPLE 

get  in  again  under  Mr.  St.  Eaves,  and  whatever's  he 
going  to  see  you  get  out  under?  that's  what  worries 
me,  sir.  It  don't  seem  to  me  like  as  if  the  position  was 
what  you  call  stratetegic  !  " 

"  Parrrbleu!  will  you  let  me  be !  "I  cried.  "  I  have  to 
think;  you  cannot  imagine  how  your  constant  idiotic 
prattle  annoys  me." 

"  Beg  pardon,  Mr.  Anne,"  said  he;  and  the  next  mo- 
ment, "  You  wouldn't  like  for  us  to  do  our  French  now, 
would  you,  Mr.  Anne  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  I.     "  Play  upon  your  flageolet." 

The  which  he  did,  with  what  seemed  to  me  to  be 
irony. 

Conscience  doth  make  cowards  of  us  all!  I  was  so 
downcast  by  my  pitiful  mismanagement  of  the  morn- 
ing's business,  that  I  shrank  from  the  eye  of  my  own 
hired  infant,  and  read  offensive  meanings  into  his  idle 
tootling. 

I  took  off  my  coat,  and  set  to  mending  it,  soldier- 
fashion,  with  a  needle  and  thread.  There  is  nothing 
more  conducive  to  thought,  above  all  in  arduous  cir- 
cumstances ;  and  as  I  sewed,  I  gradually  gained  a  clear- 
ness upon  my  affairs.  I  must  be  done  with  the  claret- 
coloured  chaise  at  once.  It  should  be  sold  at  the  next 
stage  for  what  it  would  bring.  Rowley  and  I  must 
take  back  to  the  road  on  our  four  feet,  and  after  a  de- 
cent interval  of  trudging,  get  places  on  some  coach  for 
Edinburgh  again  under  new  names !  So  much  trouble 
and  toil,  so  much  extra  risk  and  expense  and  loss  of 
time,  and  all  for  a  slip  of  the  tongue  to  a  little  lady  in 
blue! 


279 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   INNKEEPER   OF   KIRKBY-LONSDALE 

I  HAD  hitherto  conceived  and  partly  carried  out  an 
idea  that  was  dear  to  my  heart.  Rowley  and  I  de- 
scended from  our  claret-coloured  chaise,  a  couple  of 
correctly  dressed,  brisk,  bright-eyed  young  fellows,  like 
a  pair  of  aristocratic  mice;  attending  singly  to  our  own 
affairs,  communicating  solely  with  each  other,  and  that 
with  the  niceties  and  civilities  of  drill.  We  would  pass 
through  the  little  crowd  before  the  door  with  high-bred 
preoccupation,  inoffensively  haughty,  after  the  best 
English  pattern ;  and  disappear  within,  followed  by  the 
envy  and  admiration  of  the  bystanders,  a  model  master 
and  servant,  point-device  in  every  part.  It  was  a  heavy 
thought  to  me,  as  we  drew  up  before  the  inn  at  Kirkby- 
Lonsdale,  that  this  scene  was  now  to  be  enacted  for  the 
last  time.  Alas !  and  had  I  known  it,  it  was  to  go  off 
with  so  inferior  a  grace! 

I  had  been  injudiciously  liberal  to  the  post-boys  of  the 
chaise  and  four.  My  own  post-boy,  he  of  the  patched 
breeches,  now  stood  before  me,  his  eyes  glittering  with 
greed,  his  hand  advanced.  It  was  plain  he  anticipated 
something  extraordinary  by  way  of  a  pourboire ;  and 
considering  the  marches  and  counter-marches  by  which 

280 


THE  INNKEEPER  OF  KIRKBY-LONSDALE 

1  had  extended  the  stage,  the  military  character  of  our 
affairs  with  Mr.  Bellamy,  and  the  bad  example  I  had  set 
before  him  at  the  archdeacon's,  something  exceptional 
was  certainly  to  be  done.  But  these  are  always  nice 
questions,  to  a  foreigner  above  all;  a  shade  too  little 
will  suggest  niggardliness,  a  shilling  too  much  smells  of 
hush-money.  Fresh  from  the  scene  at  the  archdeacon's, 
and  flushed  by  the  idea  that  I  was  now  nearly  done  with 
the  responsibilities  of  the  claret-coloured  chaise,  I  put 
into  his  hands  five  guineas ;  and  the  amount  served  only 
to  waken  his  cupidity. 

**0,  come,  sir,  you  ain't  going  to  fob  me  off  with 
this  ?     Why,  1  seen  fire  at  your  side!  "  he  cried. 

It  would  never  do  to  give  him  more;  I  felt  I  should 
become  the  fable  of  Kirkby-Lonsdale  if  1  did;  and  I 
looked  him  in  the  face,  sternly  but  still  smiling,  and  ad- 
dressed him  with  a  voice  of  uncompromising  firmness. 

"  If  you  do  not  like  it,  give  it  back,"  said  I. 

He  pocketed  the  guineas  with  the  quickness  of  a 
conjurer,  and  like  a  base-born  cockney  as  he  was,  fell 
instantly  to  casting  dirt. 

"  'Ave  your  own  way  of  it,  Mr.  Ramornie— leastways 
Mr.  St.  Eaves,  or  whatever  your  blessed  name  may  be. 
Look  'ere"— turning  for  sympathy  to  the  stable-boys 
—"this  is  a  blessed  business.  Blessed  'ard,  I  calls  it. 
'Ere  I  takes  up  a  blessed  son  of  a  popgun  what  calls 
hisself  anything  you  care  to  mention,  and  turns  out  to 
be  a  blessed  mounseer  at  the  end  of  it!  'Ere  'ave  I  been 
drivin'  of  him  up  and  down  all  day,  a-carrying  off  of 
gals,  a-shootin'  of  pistyils,  and  a-drinkin'  of  sherry  and 
hale;  and  wot  does  he  up  and  give  me  but  a  blank, 
blank,  blanketing  blank!  " 

281 


ST.  IVES 

The  fellow's  language  had  become  too  powerful  for 

reproduction,  and  I  pass  it  by. 

Meanwhile  I  observed  Rowley  fretting  visibly  at  the 
bit;  another  moment,  and  he  would  have  added  a  last 
touch  of  the  ridiculous  to  our  arrival  by  coming  to  his 
hands  with  the  postilion. 

"Rowley!  "  cried  I  reprovingly. 

Strictly  it  should  have  been  Gammon;  but  in  the 
hurry  of  the  moment,  my  fault  (1  can  only  hope)  passed 
unperceived.  At  the  same  time  1  caught  the  eye  of  the 
postmaster.  He  was  long  and  lean,  and  brown  and 
bilious;  he  had  the  drooping  nose  of  the  humourist, 
and  the  quick  attention  of  a  man  of  parts.  He  read  my 
embarrassment  in  a  glance,  stepped  instantly  forward, 
sent  the  post-boy  to  the  right-about  with  half  a  word, 
and  was  back  next  moment  at  my  side. 

**  Dinner  in  a  private  room,  sir  ?  Very  well.  John, 
No.  4!  What  wine  would  you  care  to  mention.^ 
Very  well,  sir.  Will  you  please  to  order  fresh  horses  ? 
Not,  sir?     Very  well." 

Each  of  these  expressions  was  accompanied  by  some- 
thing in  the  nature  of  a  bow,  and  all  were  prefaced  by 
something  in  the  nature  of  a  smile,  which  1  could  very 
well  have  done  without.  The  man's  politeness  was 
from  the  teeth  outward;  behind  and  within,  I  was 
conscious  of  a  perpetual  scrutiny :  the  scene  at  his  door- 
step, the  random  confidences  of  the  post-boy,  had  not 
been  thrown  away  on  this  observer;  and  it  was  under 
a  strong  fear  of  coming  trouble  that  1  was  shown  at  last 
into  my  private  room.  I  was  in  half  a  mind  to  have 
put  off  the  whole  business.  But  the  truth  is,  now  my 
name  had  got  abroad,  my  fear  of  the  mail  that  was 

283 


THE  INNKEEPER  OF   KIRKBY-LONSDALE 

coming,  and  the  handbills  it  should  contain,  had  waxed 
inordinately,  and  I  felt  I  could  never  eat  a  meal  in  peace 
till  I  had  severed  my  connection  with  the  claret-coloured 
chaise. 

Accordingly,  as  soon  as  I  had  done  with  dinner,  I  sent 
my  compliments  to  the  landlord  and  requested  he  should 
take  a  glass  of  wine  with  me.  He  came;  we  exchanged 
the  necessary  civilities,  and  presently  I  approached  my 
business. 

"  By-the-bye,"  said  I,  "  we  had  a  brush  down  the  road 
to-day.     I  dare  say  you  may  have  heard  of  it  ?  " 

He  nodded. 

"  And  I  was  so  unlucky  as  to  get  a  pistol  ball  in  the 
panel  of  my  chaise,"  I  continued,  "  which  makes  it  sim- 
ply useless  to  me.  Do  you  know  any  one  likely  to 
buy  ?  " 

"  I  can  well  understand  that,"  said  the  landlord.  "  I 
was  looking  at  it  just  now;  it's  as  good  as  ruined,  is 
that  chaise.  General  rule,  people  don't  like  chaises 
with  bullet-holes." 

"Too  much  Romance  of  the  Forest?"  I  suggested, 
recalling  my  little  friend  of  the  morning,  and  what  I 
was  sure  had  been  her  favourite  reading— Mrs.  Rad- 
cliffe's  novels. 

"Just  so,"  said  he.  "They  may  be  right,  they  may 
be  wrong ;  I'm  not  the  judge.  But  I  suppose  it's  natu- 
ral, after  all,  for  respectable  people  to  like  things  re- 
spectable about  them ;  not  bullet-holes,  nor  puddles  of 
blood,  nor  men  with  aliases." 

I  took  a  glass  of  wine  and  held  it  up  to  the  light  to 
show  that  my  hand  was  steady. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  I  suppose  so." 
283 


ST.  IVES 

"  You  have  papers,  of  course,  showing  you  are  the 
proper  owner  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"There  is  the  bill,  stamped  and  receipted,"  said  I, 
tossing  it  across  to  him. 

He  looked  at  it. 

"  This  all  you  have  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is  enough,  at  least,"  said  I.  "  It  shows  you  where 
I  bought  and  what  I  paid  for  it." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  he  said.  "You  want  some 
paper  of  identification." 

"  To  identify  the  chaise  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Not  at  all:  to  identify jvow,"  said  he. 

"My  good  sir,  remember  yourself  I "  said  I.  "The 
title-deeds  of  my  estate  are  in  that  despatch-box;  but 
you  do  not  seriously  suppose  that  I  should  allow  you  to 
examine  them  ?  " 

"Well,  you  see,  this  paper  proves  that  some  Mr. 
Ramornie  paid  seventy  guineas  for  a  chaise,"  said  the 
fellow.  "  That's  all  well  and  good ;  but  who's  to  prove 
to  me  that  you  are  Mr.  Ramornie  ?  " 

"Fellow!  "cried  I. 

"  O,  fellow  as  much  as  you  please!  "  said  he.  "  Fel- 
low, with  all  my  heart!  That  changes  nothing.  I  am 
fellow,  of  course— obtrusive  fellow,  impudent  fellow, 
if  you  like— but  who  are  you  ?  I  hear  of  you  with  two 
names ;  I  hear  of  you  running  away  with  young  ladies, 
and  getting  cheered  for  a  Frenchman,  which  seems 
odd ;  and  one  thing  I  will  go  bail  for,  that  you  were  in 
a  blue  fright  when  the  post-boy  began  to  tell  tales  at 
my  door.  In  short,  sir,  you  may  be  a  very  good  gen- 
tleman; but  I  don't  know  enough  about  you,  and  I'll 
trouble  you  for  your  papers,  or  to  go  before  a  magis- 

284 


THE  INNKEEPER  OF   KIRKBY-LONSDALE 

trate.    Take  your  choice;  if  Tm  not  fine  enough,  I  hope 
the  magistrates  are." 

"My  good  man,"  I  stammered,  for  though  I  had 
found  my  voice,  I  could  scarce  be  said  to  have  recovered 
my  wits,  "  this  is  most  unusual,  most  rude.  Is  it  the 
custom  in  Westmoreland  that  gentlemen  should  be  in- 
sulted ?  " 

"  That  depends, "  said  he.  "  When  it's  suspected  that 
gentlemen  are  spies,  it  is  the  custom ;  and  a  good  cus- 
tom too.  No,  no,"  he  broke  out,  perceiving  me  to 
make  a  movement.  "  Both  hands  upon  the  table,  my 
gentleman !     I  want  no  pistol  balls  in  my  chaise  panelSo " 

"Surely,  sir,  you  do  me  strange  injustice!  "  said  I, 
now  the  master  of  myself.  "  You  see  me  sitting  here, 
a  monument  of  tranquillity :  pray  may  I  help  myself  to 
wine  without  umbraging  you  ?  " 

I  took  this  attitude  in  sheer  despair.  I  had  no  plan, 
no  hope.  The  best  I  could  imagine  was  to  spin  the 
business  out  some  minutes  longer,  then  capitulate.  At 
least,  I  would  not  capitulate  one  moment  too  soon. 

"  Am  I  to  take  that  for  no  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Referring  to  your  former  obliging  proposal  ?  "  said 
I.  "  My  good  sir,  you  are  to  take  it,  as  you  say,  for 
*No.'  Certainly  I  will  not  show  you  my  deeds;  cer- 
tainly I  will  not  rise  from  table  and  trundle  out  to  see 
your  magistrates.  I  have  too  much  respect  for  my  di- 
gestion, and  too  little  curiosity  injustices  of  the  peace." 

He  leaned  forward,  looked  me  nearly  in  the  face,  and 
reached  out  one  hand  to  the  bell-rope.  "  See  here,  my 
fine  fellow!  "  said  he.  "Do  you  see  that  bell-rope? 
Let  me  tell  you,  there's  a  boy  waiting  below :  one  jin- 
gle, and  he  goes  to  fetch  the  constable." 

285 


ST.  IVES 

"  Do  you  tell  me  so  ?  "  said  I.  "  Well,  there's  no  ac- 
counting for  tastes!  I  have  a  prejudice  against  the  so- 
ciety of  constables,  but  if  it  is  your  fancy  to  have  one 
in  for  the  dessert—"  I  shrugged  my  shoulders  lightly. 
"Really,  you  know,"  I  added,  "this  is  vastly  entertain- 
ing. I  assure  you,  I  am  looking  on,  with  all  the  inter- 
est of  a  man  of  the  world,  at  the  development  of  your 
highly  original  character." 

He  continued  to  study  my  face  without  speech,  his 
hand  still  on  the  button  of  the  bell-rope,  his  eyes  in 
mine;  this  was  the  decisive  heat.  My  face  seemed  to 
myself  to  dislimn  under  his  gaze,  my  expression  to 
change,  the  smile  (with  which  I  had  begun)  to  degen- 
erate into  the  grin  of  the  man  upon  the  rack.  I  was 
besides  harassed  with  doubts.  An  innocent  man,  I 
argued,  would  have  resented  the  fellow's  impudence  an 
hour  ago;  and  by  my  continued  endurance  of  the  or- 
deal, I  was  simply  signing  and  sealing  my  confession; 
in  short,  I  had  reached  the  end  of  my  powers. 

"  Have  you  any  objection  to  my  putting  my  hands  in 
my  breeches  pockets  ?  "  I  inquired.  "  Excuse  me  men- 
tioning it,  but  you  showed  yourself  so  extremely  ner- 
vous a  moment  back." 

My  voice  was  not  all  I  could  have  wished,  but  it 
sufficed.  I  could  hear  it  tremble,  but  the  landlord  ap- 
parently could  not.  He  turned  away  and  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  you  may  be  sure  I  was  quick  to  follow  his 
example. 

"  You're  a  cool  hand  at  least,  and  that's  the  sort  I  like," 
said  he.  "  Be  you  what  you  please,  I'll  deal  square.  I'll 
take  the  chaise  for  a  hundred  pound  down,  and  throw 
the  dinner  in." 

286 


THE  INNKEEPER  OF  KIRKBY-LONSDALE 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  cried,  wholly  mystified  by 
this  form  of  words. 

**  You  pay  me  a  hundred  down,"  he  repeated,  "and 
I'll  take  the  chaise.  It's  very  little  more  than  it  cost," 
he  added,  with  a  grin,  "  and  you  know  you  must  get  it 
off  your  hands  somehow." 

I  do  not  know  when  I  have  been  better  entertained 
than  by  this  impudent  proposal.  It  was  broadly  funny, 
and  I  suppose  the  least  tempting  offer  in  the  world. 
For  all  that,  it  came  very  welcome,  for  it  gave  me  the 
occasion  to  laugh.  This  I  did  with  the  most  complete 
abandonment,  till  the  tears  ran  down  my  cheeks;  and 
ever  and  again,  as  the  fit  abated,  I  would  get  another 
view  of  the  landlord's  face,  and  go  off  into  another  par- 
oxysm. 

"  You  droll  creature,  you  will  be  the  death  of  me  yet!  " 
I  cried,  drying  my  eyes. 

My  friend  was  now  wholly  disconcerted;  he  knew 
not  where  to  look,  nor  yet  what  to  say ;  and  began  for 
the  first  time  to  conceive  it  possible  he  was  mistaken. 

"  You  seem  rather  to  enjoy  a  laugh,  sir,"  said  he. 

"O  yes!  I  am  quite  an  original,"  I  replied,  and 
laughed  again. 

Presently,  in  a  changed  voice,  he  offered  me  twenty 
pounds  for  the  chaise ;  I  ran  him  up  to  twenty-five,  and 
closed  with  the  offer:  indeed,  I  was  glad  to  get  any- 
thing; and  if  I  haggled,  it  was  not  in  the  desire  of  gain, 
but  with  the  view  at  any  price  of  securing  a  safe  retreat. 
For,  although  hostilities  were  suspended,  he  was  yet 
far  from  satisfied ;  and  I  could  read  his  continued  sus- 
picions in  the  cloudy  eye  that  still  hovered  about  my 
face.     At  last  they  took  shape  in  words. 

287 


ST.  IVES 

"This  is  all  very  M^ell,"  says  he:  "you  carry  it  off 
well;  but  for  all  that,  I  must  do  my  duty." 

1  had  my  strong  effect  in  reserve ;  it  was  to  burn  my 
ships  with  a  vengeance!  1  rose.  "Leave  the  room," 
said  I.  "  This  is  insufferable.  Is  the  man  mad  ?  "  And 
then,  as  if  already  half  ashamed  of  my  passion :  "  I  can 
take  a  joke  as  well  as  any  one,"  I  added;  "but  this 
passes  measure.     Send  my  servant  and  the  bill." 

When  he  had  left  me  alone,  1  considered  my  own 
valour  with  amazement.  I  had  insulted  him ;  I  had  sent 
him  away  alone ;  now,  if  ever,  he  would  take  what  was 
the  only  sensible  resource,  and  fetch  the  constable.  But 
there  was  something  instinctively  treacherous  about  the 
man,  which  shrank  from  plain  courses.  And,  with  all 
his  cleverness,  he  missed  the  occasion  of  fame.  Row- 
ley and  1  were  suffered  to  walk  out  of  his  door,  with 
all  our  baggage,  on  foot,  with  no  destination  named, 
except  in  the  vague  statement  that  we  were  come  "  to 
view  the  lakes  " ;  and  my  friend  only  watched  our  de- 
parture with  his  chin  in  his  hand,  still  moodily  irresolute. 

I  think  this  one  of  my  great  successes.  I  was  exposed, 
unmasked,  summoned  to  do  a  perfectly  natural  act, 
which  must  prove  my  doom  and  which  I  had  not  the 
slightest  pretext  for  refusing.  I  kept  my  head,  stuck 
to  my  guns,  and,  against  all  likelihood,  here  I  was  once 
more  at  liberty  and  in  the  king's  highway.  This  was  a 
strong  lesson  never  to  despair;  and  at  the  same  time, 
how  many  hints  to  be  cautious!  and  what  a  perplexed 
and  dubious  business  the  whole  question  of  my  escape 
now  appeared!  That  I  should  have  risked  perishing 
upon  a  trumpery  question  of  a  pourboire,  depicted,  in 
lively  colours,  the  perils  that  perpetually  surrounded  us. 

288 


THE  INNKEEPER  OF  KIRKBY-LONSDALE 

Though,  to  be  sure,  the  initial  mistake  had  been  com- 
mitted before  that;  and  if  I  had  not  suffered  myself  to 
be  drawn  a  little  deep  in  confidences  to  the  innocent 
Dolly,  there  need  have  been  no  tumble  at  the  inn  of 
Kirkby-Lonsdale.  I  took  the  lesson  to  heart,  and  prom- 
ised myself  in  the  future  to  be  more  reserved.  It  was 
none  of  my  business  to  attend  to  broken  chaises  or  ship- 
wrecked travellers.  I  had  my  hands  full  of  my  own 
affairs;  and  my  best  defence  would  be  a  little  more 
natural  selfishness  and  a  trifle  less  imbecile  good-nature. 


a89 


CHAPTER  XXV 

I  MEET  A  CHEERFUL  EXTRAVAGANT 

I  PASS  over  the  next  fifty  or  sixty  leagues  of  our  jour- 
ney without  comment.  The  reader  must  be  growing 
weary  of  scenes  of  travel ;  and  for  my  own  part  I  have 
no  cause  to  recall  these  particular  miles  with  any  plea- 
sure. We  were  mainly  occupied  with  attempts  to  ob- 
literate our  trail,  which  (as  the  result  showed)  were  far 
from  successful;  for  on  my  cousin  following,  he  was 
able  to  run  me  home  with  the  least  possible  loss  of 
time,  following  the  claret-coloured  chaise  to  Kirkby-Lons- 
dale,  where  I  think  the  landlord  must  have  wept  to  learn 
what  he  had  missed,  and  tracing  us  thereafter  to  the 
doors  of  the  coach  office  in  Edinburgh  without  a  single 
check.  Fortune  did  not  favour  me,  and  why  should  I 
recapitulate  the  details  of  futile  precautions  which  de- 
ceived nobody,  and  wearisome  arts  which  proved  to  be 
artless  ? 

The  day  was  drawing  to  an  end  when  Mr.  Rowley 
and  I  bowled  into  Edinburgh,  to  the  stirring  sound  of 
the  guard's  bugle  and  the  clattering  team.  I  was  here 
upon  my  field  of  battle;  on  the  scene  of  my  former  cap- 
tivity, escape,  and  exploits ;  and  in  the  same  city  with 
my  love.     My  heart  expanded ;  I  have  rarely  felt  more 

290 


I  MEET  A  CHEERFUL  EXTRAVAGANT 

of  a  hero.  All  down  the  Bridges,  I  sat  by  the  driver 
with  my  arms  folded  and  my  face  set,  unflinchingly 
meeting  every  eye,  and  prepared  every  moment  for  a 
cry  of  recognition.  Hundreds  of  the  population  were 
in  the  habit  of  visiting  the  castle,  where  it  was  my 
practice  (before  the  days  of  Flora)  to  make  myself  con- 
spicuous among  the  prisoners;  and  I  think  it  an  ex- 
traordinary thing  that  I  should  have  encountered  so  few 
to  recognise  me.  But  doubtless  a  clean  chin  is  a  disguise 
in  itself;  and  the  change  is  great  from  a  suit  of  sulphur 
yellow  to  fine  linen,  a  well-fitting  mouse-coloured  great- 
coat furred  in  black,  a  pair  of  tight  trousers  of  fashion- 
able cut,  and  a  hat  of  inimitable  curl.  After  all,  it  was 
more  likely  that  I  should  have  recognised  our  visitors, 
than  that  they  should  have  identified  the  modish  gentle- 
man with  the  miserable  prisoner  in  the  castle. 

I  was  glad  to  set  foot  on  the  flagstones,  and  to  escape 
from  the  crowd  that  had  assembled  to  receive  the  mail. 
Here  we  were,  with  but  little  daylight  before  us,  and 
that  on  Saturday  afternoon,  the  eve  of  the  famous  Scot- 
tish Sabbath,  adrift  in  the  New  Town  of  Edinburgh,  and 
overladen  with  baggage.  We  carried  it  ourselves.  I 
would  not  take  a  cab,  nor  so  much  as  hire  a  porter,  who 
might  afterwards  serve  as  a  link  between  my  lodgings 
and  the  mail,  and  connect  me  again  with  the  claret-col- 
oured chaise  and  Aylesbury.  For  I  was  resolved  to 
break  the  chain  of  evidence  for  good,  and  to  begin  life 
afresh  (so  far  as  regards  caution)  with  a  new  character. 
The  first  step  was  to  find  lodgings,  and  to  find  them 
quickly.  This  was  the  more  needful  as  Mr.  Rowley 
and  I,  in  our  smart  clothes  and  with  our  cumbrous  bur- 
then, made  a  noticeable  appearance  in  the  streets  at  that 

291 


ST.  IVES 

time  of  the  day  and  in  that  quarter  of  the  town,  which 
was  largely  given  up  to  fine  folk,  bucks  and  dandies  and 
young  ladies,  or  respectable  professional  men  on  their 
way  home  to  dinner. 

On  the  north  side  of  St.  James's  Square  I  was  so 
happy  as  to  spy  a  bill  in  a  third-floor  window.  I  was 
equally  indifferent  to  cost  and  convenience  in  my  choice 
of  a  lodging—"  any  port  in  a  storm  "  was  the  principle 
on  which  I  was  prepared  to  act;  and  Rowley  and  I  made 
at  once  for  the  common  entrance  and  scaled  the  stair. 

We  were  admitted  by  a  very  sour-looking  female  in 
bombazine.  I  gathered  she  had  all  her  life  been  de- 
pressed by  a  series  of  bereavements,  the  last  of  which 
might  very  well  have  befallen  her  the  day  before;  and  I 
instinctively  lowered  my  voice  when  I  addressed  her. 
She  admitted  she  had  rooms  to  let— even  showed  them 
to  us— a  sitting-room  and  bedroom  in  a  suitej  command- 
ing a  fine  prospect  to  the  Firth  and  Fifeshire,  and  in 
themselves  well  proportioned  and  comfortably  fur- 
nished, with  pictures  on  the  wall,  shells  on  the  mantel- 
piece, and  several  books  upon  the  table,  which  I  found 
afterwards  to  be  all  of  a  devotional  character,  and  all 
presentation  copies,  "to  my  Christian  friend,"  or  "to 
my  devout  acquaintance  in  the  Lord,  Bethiah  McRan- 
kine."  Beyond  this  my  "  Christian  friend  "  could  not  be 
made  to  advance:  no,  not  even  to  do  that  which  seemed 
the  most  natural  and  pleasing  thing  in  the  world— I 
mean  to  name  her  price— but  stood  before  us  shaking 
her  head,  and  at  times  mourning  like  the  dove,  the  pic- 
ture of  depression  and  defence.  She  had  a  voice  the 
most  querulous  I  have  ever  heard,  and  with  this  she 
produced  a  whole  vegiment  of  difficulties  and  criticisms. 

39a 


I  MEET  A  CHEERFUL  EXTRAVAGANT 

She  could  not  promise  us  attendance. 

"Well,  madam,"  said  I,  "and  what  is  my  servant 
for?" 

"  Him  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Be  gude  to  us !  Is  be  your 
servant  ?  " 

"  I  am  sorry,  ma'am,  he  meets  with  your  disapproval." 

"  Na,  I  never  said  that.  But  he's  young.  He'll  be  a 
great  breaker,  I'm  thinkin*.  Ay !  he'll  be  a  great  respon- 
sibeelity  to  ye,  like.     Does  he  attend  to  his  releegion  ?  " 

"Yes,  m'm,"  returned  Rowley,  with  admirable 
promptitude,  and,  immediately  closing  his  eyes,  as  if 
from  habit,  repeated  the  following  distich  with  more 
celerity  than  fervour:  — 

"  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke  and  John, 
Bless  the  bed  that  I  lie  on!  " 

**  Nhm  I  "  said  the  lady,  and  maintained  an  awful  si- 
lence. 

"Well,  ma*am,"  said  I,  "it  seems  we  are  never  to 
hear  the  beginning  of  your  terms,  let  alone  the  end  of 
them.  Come— a  good  movement!  and  let  us  be  either 
off  or  on." 

She  opened  her  lips  slowly.  "  Ony  raferences  ?  "  she 
inquired,  in  a  voice  like  a  bell. 

I  opened  my  pocket-book  and  showed  her  a  handful 
of  bank  bills.  "  I  think,  madam,  that  these  are  unex- 
ceptionable," said  I. 

"  Ye'll  be  wantin'  breakfast  late  ?  "  was  her  reply. 

"  Madam,  we  want  breakfast  at  whatever  hour  it  suits 
you  to  give  it,  from  four  in  the  morning  till  four  in  the 
afternoon  I  "  1  cried.  "  Only  tell  us  your  figure,  if  your 
mouth  be  large  enough  to  let  it  out!  " 

293 


ST.  IVES 

"  I  couldnae  give  ye  supper  the  nicht,"  came  the  echo. 

"  We  shall  go  out  to  supper,  you  incorrigible  female !  " 
I  vowed,  between  laughter  and  tears.  "  Here— this  is 
going  to  end!  I  want  you  for  a  landlady— let  me  tell 
you  that!— and  I  am  going  to  have  my  way.  You 
won't  tell  me  what  you  charge  ?  Very  well;  I  will  do 
without!  I  can  trust  you!  You  don't  seem  to  know 
when  you  have  a  good  lodger;  but  I  know  perfectly 
when  I  have  an  honest  landlady!  Rowley,  unstrap  the 
valises!  " 

Will  it  be  credited  ?  The  monomaniac  fell  to  rating 
me  for  my  indiscretion !  But  the  battle  was  over ;  these 
were  her  last  guns,  and  more  in  the  nature  of  a  salute 
than  of  renewed  hostilities.  And  presently  she  conde- 
scended on  very  moderate  terms,  and  Rowley  and  I  were 
able  to  escape  in  quest  of  supper.  Much  time  had, 
however,  been  lost;  the  sun  was  long  down,  the  lamps 
glimmered  along  the  streets,  and  the  voice  of  a  watch- 
man already  resounded  in  the  neighbouring  Leith  Road. 
On  our  first  arrival  I  had  observed  a  place  of  entertain- 
ment not  far  off,  in  a  street  behind  the  Register  House. 
Thither  we  found  our  way,  and  sat  down  to  a  late  din- 
ner alone.  But  we  had  scarce  given  our  orders  before 
the  door  opened,  and  a  tall  young  fellow  entered  with 
something  of  a  lurch,  looked  about  him,  and  approached 
the  same  table. 

"  Give  you  good  evening,  most  grave  and  reverend 
seniors !  "  said  he.  "  Will  you  permit  a  wanderer,  a  pil- 
grim—the pilgrim  of  love,  in  short— to  come  to  tempo- 
rary anchor  under  your  lee  ?  I  care  not  who  knows  it, 
but  I  have  a  passionate  aversion  from  the  bestial  practice 
of  solitary  feeding!  " 

394 


I   MEET  A  CHEERFUL  EXTRAVAGANT 

"  You  are  welcome,  sir,"  said  I,  "  if  I  may  take  upon 
me  so  far  to  play  the  host  in  a  public  place." 

He  looked  startled,  and  fixed  a  hazy  eye  on  me,  as 
he  sat  down. 

"Sir,"  said  he,  "you  are  a  man  not  without  some 
tincture  of  letters,  I  perceive!  What  shall  we  drink, 
sir?" 

I  mentioned  I  had  already  called  for  a  pot  of  porter. 

"  A  modest  pot— the  seasonable  quencher  ?  "  said  he. 
"  Well,  I  do  not  know  but  what  I  could  look  at  a  mod- 
est pot  myself!  I  am,  for  the  moment,  in  precarious 
health.  Much  study  hath  heated  my  brain,  much  walk- 
ing wearied  my— well,  it  seems  to  be  more  my  eyes!  " 

"You  have  walked  far,  I  dare  say?"  I  suggested. 

"Not  so  much  far  as  often,"  he  replied.  "There  is 
in  this  city— to  which,  I  think,  you  are  a  stranger?  Sir, 
to  your  very  good  health,  and  our  better  acquaintance ! 
—there  is,  in  this  city  of  Dunedin,  a  certain  implication 
of  streets  which  reflects  the  utmost  credit  on  the  designer 
and  the  publicans— at  every  hundred  yards  is  seated  the 
Judicious  Tavern,  so  that  persons  of  contemplative  mind 
are  secure,  at  moderate  distances,  of  refreshment.  I 
have  been  doing  a  trot  in  that  favoured  quarter,  favoured 
by  art  and  nature.  A  few  chosen  comrades— enemies 
of  publicity  and  friends  to  wit  and  wine— obliged  me 
with  their  society.  'Along  the  cool,  sequestered  vale  of 
Register  Street  we  kept  the  uneven  tenor  of  our  way,' 
sir." 

"  It  struck  me,  as  you  came  in—"  I  began. 

"  O,  don't  make  any  bones  about  it!  "  he  interrupted. 
"  Of  course  it  struck  you !  and  let  me  tell  you,  1  was 
devilish  lucky  not  to  strike  myself.     When  I  entered 

295 


ST.  IVES 

this  apartment  I  shone  '  with  all  the  pomp  and  prodi- 
gality of  brandy  and  water,'  as  the  poet  Gray  has  in  an- 
other place  expressed  it.  Powerful  bard,  Gray!  but  a 
niminy-piminy  creature,  afraid  of  a  petticoat  and  a  bot- 
tle—not a  man,  sir,  not  a  man!  Excuse  me  for  being 
so  troublesome,  but  what  the  devil  have  I  done  with 
my  fork  ?  Thank  you,  I  am  sure.  Temulentia,  quoad 
me  ipsum,  brevis  collis^o  est  I  sit  and  eat,  sir,  in  a  Lon- 
don fog.  I  should  bring  a  link-boy  to  table  with  me ; 
and  I  would  too,  if  the  little  brutes  were  only  washed ! 
I  intend  to  found  a  Philanthropical  Society  for  Washing 
the  Deserving  Poor  and  Shaving  Soldiers.  I  am  pleased 
to  observe  that,  although  not  of  an  unmilitary  bearing, 
you  are  apparently  shaved.  In  my  calendar  of  the  vir- 
tues, shaving  comes  next  to  drinking.  A  gentleman  may 
be  a  low-minded  ruffian  without  sixpence,  but  he  will 
always  be  close  shaved.  See  me,  with  the  eye  of  fancy, 
in  the  chill  hours  of  the  morning,  say  about  a  quarter  to 
twelve,  noon— see  me  awake!  First  thing  of  all,  with- 
out one  thought  of  the  plausible  but  unsatisfactory  small 
beer,  or  the  healthful  though  insipid  soda-water,  I  take 
the  deadly  razor  in  my  vacillating  grasp;  I  proceed  to 
skate  upon  the  margin  of  eternity.  Stimulating  thought ! 
I  bleed,  perhaps,  but  with  medicable  wounds.  The 
stubble  reaped,  I  pass  out  of  my  chamber,  calm  but 
triumphant.  To  employ  a  hackneyed  phrase,  I  would 
not  call  Lord  Wellington  my  uncle!  I,  too,  have  dared, 
perhaps  bled,  before  the  imminent  deadly  shaving-table." 
In  this  manner  the  bombastic  fellow  continued  to  en- 
tertain me  all  through  dinner,  and  by  a  common  error 
of  drunkards,  because  he  had  been  extremely  talkative 
himself,  leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  chanced 

296 


I   MEET  A   CHEERFUL  EXTRAVAGANT 

on  very  genial  company.  He  told  me  his  name,  his 
address;  he  begged  we  should  meet  again;  finally  he 
proposed  that  I  should  dine  with  him  in  the  country  at 
an  early  date. 

"The  dinner  is  official,"  he  explained.  "The  office- 
bearers and  Senatus  of  the  University  of  Cramond— an 
educational  institution  in  which  1  have  the  honour  to  be 
Professor  of  Nonsense— meet  to  do  honour  to  our  friend 
Icarus,  at  the  old-established  howff,  Cramond  Bridge. 
One  place  is  vacant,  fascinating  stranger,— I  offer  it  to 
you!  " 

"  And  who  is  your  friend  Icarus  }  "  I  asked. 

"  The  aspiring  son  of  Daedalus !  "  said  he.  "  Is  it 
possible  that  you  have  never  heard  the  name  of  Byfield  ?  " 

"  Possible  and  true,"  said  I. 

"  And  is  fame  so  small  a  thing  }  "  cried  he.  "  Byfield, 
sir,  is  an  aeronaut.  He  apes  the  fame  of  a  Lunardi,  and 
is  on  the  point  of  offering  to  the  inhabitants— I  beg  your 
pardon,  to  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  our  neighbourhood 
—the  spectacle  of  an  ascension.  As  one  of  the  gentry 
concerned,  I  may  be  permitted  to  remark  that  I  am  un- 
moved. I  care  not  a  Tinker's  Damn  for  his  ascension. 
No  more— I  breathe  it  in  your  ear— does  anybody  else. 
The  business  is  stale,  sir,  stale.  Lunardi  did  it,  and 
overdid  it.  A  whimsical,  fiddling,  vain  fellow,  by  all 
accounts— for  I  was  at  that  time  rocking  in  my  cradle. 
But  once  was  enough.  If  Lunardi  went  up  and  came 
down,  there  was  the  matter  settled.  We  prefer  to 
grant  the  point.  We  do  not  want  to  see  the  experiment 
repeated  ad  nauseam  by  Byfield,  and  Brown,  and  But- 
ler, and  Brodie,  and  Bottomley.  Ah !  if  they  would  go 
up  and  not  come  down  again!     But  this  is  by  the  ques- 

297 


ST.  IVES 

tion.  The  University  of  Cramond  delights  to  honour 
merit  in  the  man,  sir,  rather  than  utility  in  the  profes- 
sion ;  and  Byfield,  though  an  ignorant  dog,  is  a  sound, 
reliable  drinker,  and  really  not  amiss  over  his  cups. 
Under  the  radiance  of  the  kindly  jar,  partiality  might 
even  credit  him  with  wit." 

It  will  be  seen  afterwards  that  this  was  more  my 
business  than  1  thought  it  at  the  time.  Indeed,  I  was 
impatient  to  be  gone.  Even  as  my  friend  maundered 
ahead,  a  squall  burst,  the  jaws  of  the  rain  were  opened 
against  the  coffee-house  windows,  and  at  that  inclem- 
ent signal  I  remembered  I  was  due  elsewhere. 


•98 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE   COTTAGE   AT   NIGHT 

At  the  door  I  was  nearly  blown  back  by  the  unbridled 
violence  of  the  squall,  and  Rowley  and  I  must  shout 
our  parting  words.  All  the  way  along  Princes  Street 
(whither  my  way  led)  the  wind  hunted  me  behind  and 
screamed  in  my  ears.  The  city  was  flushed  with  bucket- 
fuls  of  rain  that  tasted  salt  from  the  neighbouring  ocean. 
It  seemed  to  darken  and  lighten  again  in  the  vicissitudes 
of  the  gusts.  Now  you  would  say  the  lamps  had  been 
blown  out  from  end  to  end  of  the  long  thoroughfare; 
now,  in  a  lull,  they  would  revive,  re-multiply,  shine 
again  on  the  wet  pavements,  and  make  darkness  spar- 
ingly visible. 

By  the  time  I  had  got  to  the  corner  of  the  Lothian 
Road  there  was  a  distinct  improvement.  For  one  thing, 
I  had  now  my  shoulder  to  the  wind ;  for  a  second,  I 
came  in  the  lee  of  my  old  prison-house,  the  castle;  and, 
at  any  rate,  the  excessive  fury  of  the  blast  was  itself 
moderating.  The  thought  of  what  errand  I  was  on  re- 
awoke  within  me,  and  I  seemed  to  breast  the  rough 
weather  with  increasing  ease.  With  such  a  destination, 
what  mattered  a  little  buffeting  of  wind  or  a  sprinkle  of 
cold  water  ?  I  recalled  Flora's  image,  I  took  her  in  fancy 
to  my  arms,  and  my  heart  throbbed.    And  the  next 

299 


ST.  IVES 

moment  I  had  recognised  the  inanity  of  that  fool's  para- 
dise.  If  I  could  spy  her  taper  as  she  went  to  bed,  I 
might  count  myself  lucky. 

I  had  about  two  leagues  before  me  of  a  road  mostly 
up-hill,  and  now  deep  in  mire.  So  soon  as  I  was  clear 
of  the  last  street  lamp,  darkness  received  me— a  dark- 
ness only  pointed  by  the  lights  of  occasional  rustic 
farms,  where  the  dogs  howled  with  uplifted  heads  as  I 
went  by.  The  wind  continued  to  decline :  it  had  been 
but  a  squall,  not  a  tempest.  The  rain,  on  the  other 
hand,  settled  into  a  steady  deluge,  which  had  soon 
drenched  me  thoroughly.  I  continued  to  tramp  forward 
in  the  night,  contending  with  gloomy  thoughts  and  ac- 
companied by  the  dismal  ululation  of  the  dogs.  What 
ailed  them  that  they  should  have  been  thus  wakeful,  and 
perceived  the  small  sound  of  my  steps  amid  the  general 
reverberation  of  the  rain,  was  more  than  I  could  fancy. 
I  remembered  tales  with  which  I  had  been  entertained 
in  childhood.  I  told  myself  some  murderer  was  going 
by,  and  the  brutes  perceived  upon  him  the  faint  smell 
of  blood;  and  the  next  moment,  with  a  physical  shock, 
I  had  applied  the  words  to  my  own  case! 

Here  was  a  dismal  disposition  for  a  lover.  "Was 
ever  lady  in  this  humour  wooed  ?  "  I  asked  myself,  and 
came  near  turning  back.  It  is  never  wise  to  risk  a  criti- 
cal interview  when  your  spirits  are  depressed,  your 
clothes  muddy,  and  your  hands  wet!  But  the  boister- 
ous night  was  in  itself  favourable  to  my  enterprise: 
now,  or  perhaps  never,  I  might  find  some  way  to  have 
an  interview  with  Flora ;  and  if  I  had  one  interview  (wet 
clothes,  low  spirits,  and  all),  I  told  myself  there  would 
certainly  be  another. 

300 


THE  COTTAGE  AT  NIGHT 

Arrived  in  the  cottage  garden,  I  found  the  circum- 
stances mighty  inclement.  From  the  round  holes  in  the 
shutters  of  the  parlour,  shafts  of  candle-light  streamed 
forth ;  elsewhere  the  darkness  was  complete.  The  trees, 
the  thickets,  were  saturated ;  the  lower  parts  of  the  gar- 
den turned  into  a  morass.  At  intervals,  when  the  wind 
broke  forth  again,  there  passed  overhead  a  wild  coil  of 
clashing  branches;  and  between  whiles  the  whole  en- 
closure continuously  and  stridently  resounded  with  the 
rain.  I  advanced  close  to  the  window  and  contrived  to 
read  the  face  of  my  watch.  It  was  half-past  seven ;  they 
would  not  retire  before  ten,  they  might  not  before  mid- 
night, and  the  prospect  was  unpleasant.  In  a  lull  of  the 
wind  I  could  hear  from  the  inside  the  voice  of  Flora 
reading  aloud;  the  words  of  course  inaudible— only  a 
flow  of  undecipherable  speech,  quiet,  cordial,  colourless, 
more  intimate  and  winning,  more  eloquent  of  her  per- 
sonality, but  not  less  beautiful  than  song.  And  the 
next  moment  the  clamour  of  a  fresh  squall  broke  out 
about  the  cottage ;  the  voice  was  drowned  in  its  bellow- 
ing, and  I  was  glad  to  retreat  from  my  dangerous  post. 

For  three  egregious  hours  I  must  now  suffer  the  ele- 
ments to  do  their  worst  upon  me,  and  continue  to  hold 
my  ground  in  patience.  I  recalled  the  least  fortunate  of 
my  services  in  the  field :  being  out-sentry  of  the  pickets 
in  weather  no  less  vile,  sometimes  unsuppered  and  with 
nothing  to  look  forward  to  by  way  of  breakfast  but 
musket  balls;  and  they  seemed  light  in  comparison. 
So  strangely  are  we  built:  so  much  more  strong  is  the 
love  of  woman  than  the  mere  love  of  life. 

At  last  my  patience  was  rewarded.  The  light  disap- 
peared from  the  parlour  and  reappeared  a  moment  after 

301 


ST.  IVES 

in  the  room  above.  I  was  pretty  well  informed  for 
the  enterprise  that  lay  before  me.  I  knew  the  lair  of  the 
dragon—that  which  was  just  illuminated.  I  knew  the 
bower  of  my  Rosamond,  and  how  excellently  it  was 
placed  on  the  ground  level,  round  the  flank  of  the  cot- 
tage and  out  of  earshot  of  her  formidable  aunt.  Noth- 
ing was  left  but  to  apply  my  knowledge.  I  was  then 
at  the  bottom  of  the  garden,  whither  1  had  gone  (Heaven 
save  the  mark!)  for  warmth,  that  I  might  walk  to  and 
fro  unheard  and  keep  myself  from  perishing.  The  night 
had  fallen  still,  the  wind  ceased ;  the  noise  of  the  rain 
had  much  lightened,  if  it  had  not  stopped,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  the  dripping  of  the  garden  trees.  In  the 
midst  of  this  lull,  and  as  I  was  already  drawing  near  to 
the  cottage,  I  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  a  window- 
sash  screaming  in  its  channels;  and  a  step  or  two  be- 
yond I  became  aware  of  a  gush  of  light  upon  the  dark- 
ness. It  fell  from  Flora's  window,  which  she  had  flung 
open  on  the  night,  and  where  she  now  sat,  roseate  and 
pensive,  in  the  shine  of  two  candles  falling  from  behind, 
her  tresses  deeply  embowering  and  shading  her;  the 
suspended  comb  still  in  one  hand,  the  other  idly  cling- 
ing to  the  iron  stanchions  with  which  the  window  was 
barred. 

Keeping  to  the  turf,  and  favoured  by  the  darkness  of 
the  night  and  the  patter  of  the  rain  which  was  now 
returning,  though  without  wind,  I  approached  until  I 
could  almost  have  touched  her.  It  seemed  a  grossness 
of  which  I  was  incapable  to  break  up  her  reverie  by 
speech.  I  stood  and  drank  her  in  with  my  eyes ;  how 
the  light  made  a  glory  in  her  hair,  and  (what  I  have  al- 
ways thought  the  most  ravishing  thing  in  nature)  how 

302 


THE  COTTAGE  AT  NIGHT 

the  planes  ran  into  each  other,  and  were  distinguished, 
and  how  the  hues  blended  and  varied,  and  were  shaded 
off,  between  the  cheek  and  neck.  At  first  I  was  abashed : 
she  wore  her  beauty  like  an  immediate  halo  of  refine- 
ment; she  discouraged  me  like  an  angel,  or  what  I  sus- 
pect to  be  the  next  most  discouraging,  a  modern  lady. 
But  as  I  continued  to  gaze,  hope  and  life  returned  to  me; 
I  forgot  my  timidity,  I  forgot  the  sickening  pack  of  wet 
clothes  with  which  I  stood  burthened,  I  tingled  with  new 
blood. 

Still  unconscious  of  my  presence,  still  gazing  before 
her  upon  the  illuminated  image  of  the  window,  the 
straight  shadows  of  the  bars,  the  glinting  of  pebbles  on 
the  path,  and  the  impenetrable  night  on  the  garden  and 
the  hills  beyond  it,  she  heaved  a  deep  breath  that  struck 
upon  my  heart  like  an  appeal. 

"  Why  does  Miss  Gilchrist  sigh  ? "  I  whispered. 
"  Does  she  recall  absent  friends  ?  " 

She  turned  her  head  swiftly  in  my  direction ;  it  was 
the  only  sign  of  surprise  she  deigned  to  make.  At  the 
same  time  I  stepped  forward  into  the  light  and  bowed 
profoundly. 

"You!  "she  said.     "Here?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  here,"  I  replied.  "  I  have  come  very  far, 
it  may  be  a  hundred  and  fifty  leagues,  to  see  you.  I 
have  waited  all  this  night  in  your  garden.  Will  Miss 
Gilchrist  not  offer  her  hand— to  a  friend  in  trouble  ?  " 

She  extended  it  between  the  bars,  and  I  dropped  upon 
one  knee  on  the  wet  path,  and  kissed  it  twice.  At  the 
second  it  was  withdrawn  suddenly,  methought  with 
more  of  a  start  than  she  had  hitherto  displayed.  I  re- 
gained my  former  attitude,  and  we  were  both  silent 

303 


ST.  IVES 

awhile.  My  timidity  returned  on  me  tenfold.  I  looked 
in  her  face  for  any  signals  of  anger,  and  seeing  her  eyes 
to  waver  and  fall  aside  from  mine,  augured  that  all  was 
well. 

"  You  must  have  been  mad  to  come  here!  "  she  broke 
out.  "  Of  all  places  under  heaven,  this  is  no  place  for 
you  to  come.  And  1  was  just  thinking  you  were  safe 
in  France!  " 

"  You  were  thinking  of  me!  "  I  cried. 

"Mr.  St.  Ives,  you  cannot  understand  your  danger," 
she  replied.  "  1  am  sure  of  it,  and  yet  1  cannot  fmd  it 
in  my  heart  to  tell  you.     O  be  persuaded,  and  go!  " 

"  1  believe  1  know  the  worst.  But  1  was  never  one  to 
set  an  undue  value  on  life,  the  life  that  we  share  with 
beasts.  My  university  has  been  in  the  wars,  not  a  fa- 
mous place  of  education,  but  one  where  a  man  learns 
to  carry  his  life  in  his  hand  as  lightly  as  a  glove,  and  for 
his  lady  or  his  honour  to  lay  it  as  lightly  down.  You 
appeal  to  my  fears,  and  you  do  wrong.  I  have  come  to 
Scotland  with  my  eyes  quite  open,  to  see  you  and  to 
speak  with  you— it  may  be  for  the  last  time.  With  my 
eyes  quite  open,  I  say;  and  if  1  did  not  hesitate  at  the 
beginning,  do  you  think  that  I  would  draw  back  now  ?  " 

"  You  do  not  know!  "  she  cried,  with  rising  agitation. 
"  This  country,  even  this  garden,  is  death  to  you.  They 
all  believe  it;  I  am  the  only  one  that  does  not.  If  they 
hear  you  now,  if  they  heard  a  whisper— 1  dread  to  think 
of  it.     O,  go,  go  this  instant!     It  is  my  prayer." 

"  Dear  lady,  do  not  refuse  me  what  I  have  come  so 
far  to  seek;  and  remember  that  out  of  all  the  millions  in 
England  there  is  no  other  but  yourself  in  whom  I  can 
dare  confide.     I  have  all  the  world  against  me;  you  are 

304 


THE  COTTAGE  AT  NIGHT 

my  only  ally ;  and  as  I  have  to  speak,  you  have  to  listen. 
All  is  true  that  they  say  of  me,  and  all  of  it  false  at  the 
same  time.  I  did  kill  this  man  Goguelat— it  was  that 
you  meant  ?  " 

She  mutely  signed  to  me  that  it  was ;  she  had  become 
deadly  pale. 

**  But  1  killed  him  in  fair  fight.  Till  then,  I  had  never 
taken  a  life  unless  in  battle,  which  is  my  trade.  But  I 
was  grateful,  I  was  on  fire  with  gratitude,  to  one  who 
had  been  good  to  me,  who  had  been  better  to  me  than 
I  could  have  dreamed  of  an  angel,  who  had  come  into 
the  darkness  of  my  prison  like  sunrise.  The  man 
Goguelat  insulted  her.  O,  he  had  insulted  me  often,  it 
was  his  favourite  pastime,  and  he  might  insult  me  as  he 
pleased— for  who  was  I  ?  But  with  that  lady  it  was 
different.  I  could  never  forgive  myself  if  I  had  let  it 
pass.  And  we  fought,  and  he  fell,  and  I  have  no  re- 
morse." 

1  waited  anxiously  for  some  reply.  The  worst  was 
now  out,  and  I  knew  that  she  had  heard  of  it  before; 
but  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  go  on  with  my  narrative 
without  some  shadow  of  encouragement. 

"  You  blame  me  }  " 

"No,  not  at  all.  It  is  a  point  I  cannot  speak  on— I 
am  only  a  girl.  1  am  sure  you  were  in  the  right :  I  have 
always  said  so— to  Ronald.  Not,  of  course,  to  my  aunt. 
I  am  afraid  1  let  her  speak  as  she  will.  You  must  not 
think  me  a  disloyal  friend;  and  even  with  the  major— I 
did  not  tell  you  he  had  become  quite  a  friend  of  ours— 
Major  Chevenix  1  mean— he  has  taken  such  a  fancy  to 
Ronald  I  It  was  he  that  brought  the  news  to  us  of  that 
hateful  Clausel  being  captured,  and  all  that  he  was  say- 

305 


ST.  IVES 

ing.  I  was  indignant  with  him.  I  said— I  dare  say  I 
said  too  much— and  I  must  say  he  was  very  good-na- 
tured. He  said,  *  You  and  I,  who  are  his  friends,  know 
that  Champdivers  is  innocent.  But  what  is  the  use  of 
saying  it  ?  '  All  this  was  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  in 
what  they  call  an  aside.  And  then  he  said,  *  Give  me  a 
chance  to  speak  to  you  in  private,  I  have  much  to  tell 
you.'  And  he  did.  And  told  me  just  what  you  did— 
that  it  was  an  affair  of  honour,  and  no  blame  attached 
to  you.     O,  I  must  say  I  like  that  Major  Chevenix!  " 

At  this  I  was  seized  with  a  great  pang  of  jealousy.  I 
remembered  the  first  time  that  he  had  seen  her,  the  in- 
terest that  he  seemed  immediately  to  conceive;  and  I 
could  not  but  admire  the  dog  for  the  use  he  had  been 
ingenious  enough  to  make  of  our  acquaintance  in  order 
to  supplant  me.  All  is  fair  in  love  and  war.  For  all 
that,  I  was  now  no  less  anxious  to  do  the  speaking  my- 
self than  I  had  been  before  to  hear  Flora.  At  least,  I 
could  keep  clear  of  the  hateful  image  of  Major  Chevenix. 
Accordingly  I  burst  at  once  on  the  narrative  of  my  ad- 
ventures. It  was  the  same  as  you  have  read,  but  briefer, 
and  told  with  a  very  different  purpose.  Now  every  in- 
cident had  a  particular  bearing,  every  byway  branched 
off  to  Rome— and  that  was  Flora. 

When  I  had  begun  to  speak,  I  had  kneeled  upon  the 
gravel  withoutside  the  low  window,  rested  my  arms 
upon  the  sill,  and  lowered  my  voice  to  the  most  confi- 
dential whisper.  Flora  herself  must  kneel  upon  the 
other  side,  and  this  brought  our  heads  upon  a  level,  with 
only  the  bars  between  us.  So  placed,  so  separated,  it 
seemed  that  our  proximity,  and  the  continuous  and  low 
sounds  of  my  pleading  voice,  worked  progressively  and 

306 


THE  COTTAGE  AT  NIGHT 

powerfully  on  her  heart,  and  perhaps  not  less  so  on 
my  own.  For  these  spells  are  double-edged.  The  silly 
birds  may  be  charmed  with  the  pipe  of  the  fowler, 
which  is  but  a  tube  of  reeds.  Not  so  with  a  bird  of  our 
own  feather!  As  I  went  on,  and  my  resolve  strength- 
ened, and  my  voice  found  new  modulations,  and  our 
faces  were  drawn  closer  to  the  bars_  and  to  each  other, 
not  only  she,  but  I,  succumbed  to  the  fascination  and 
were  kindled  by  the  charm.  We  make  love,  and  there- 
by ourselves  fall  the  deeper  in  it.  It  is  with  the  heart 
only  that  one  captures  a  heart. 

"And  now,"  I  continued,  "I  will  tell  you  what  you 
can  still  do  for  me.  I  run  a  little  risk  just  now,  and  you 
see  for  yourself  how  unavoidable  it  is  for  any  man  of 
honour.  But  if— but  in  case  of  the  worst,  I  do  not 
choose  to  enrich  either  my  enemies  or  the  Prince  Re- 
gent. I  have  here  the  bulk  of  what  my  uncle  gave  me. 
Eight  thousand  odd  pounds.  Will  you  take  care  of  it 
for  me  ?  Do  not  think  of  it  merely  as  money ;  take  and 
keep  it  as  a  relic  of  your  friend  or  some  precious  piece 
of  him.  I  may  have  bitter  need  of  it  ere  long.  Do  you 
know  the  old  country  story  of  the  giant  who  gave  his 
heart  to  his  wife  to  keep  for  him,  thinking  it  safer  to 
repose  on  her  loyalty  than  his  own  strength  ?  Flora,  I 
am  the  giant— a  very  little  one:  will  you  be  the  keeper 
of  my  life  ?  It  is  my  heart  I  offer  you  in  this  symbol. 
In  the  sight  of  God,  if  you  will  have  it,  I  give  you  my 
name,  I  endow  you  with  my  money.  If  the  worst 
come,  if  I  may  never  hope  to  call  you  wife,  let  me  at 
least  think  that  you  will  use  my  uncle's  legacy  as  my 
widow." 

"  No,  not  that,"  she  said.     "  Never  that." 
307 


ST.  IVES 

"What  then?"  I  said.  "What  else,  my  angel? 
What  are  words  to  me  ?  There  is  but  one  name  that  I 
care  to  know  you  by.     Flora,  my  love!  " 

"Anne!  "  she  said. 

What  sound  is  so  full  of  music  as  one's  own  name 
uttered  for  the  first  time  in  the  voice  of  her  we  love  ? 

"My  darling!  "  said  I. 

The  jealous  bars,  set  at  the  top  and  bottom  in  stone 
and  lime,  obstructed  the  rapture  of  the  moment;  but  I 
took  her  to  myself  as  wholly  as  they  allowed.  She  did 
not  shun  my  lips.  My  arms  were  wound  round  her 
body,  which  yielded  itself  generously  to  my  embrace. 
As  we  so  remained,  entwined  and  yet  severed,  bruising 
our  faces  unconsciously  on  the  cold  bars,  the  irony  of 
the  universe— or  as  I  prefer  to  say,  envy  of  some  of  the 
gods— again  stirred  up  the  elements  of  that  stormy  night. 
The  wind  blew  again  in  the  tree-tops ;  a  volley  of  cold 
sea-rain  deluged  the  garden,  and,  as  the  deuce  would 
have  it,  a  gutter,  which  had  been  hitherto  choked  up, 
began  suddenly  to  play  upon  my  head  and  shoulders 
with  the  vivacity  of  a  fountain.  We  parted  with  a 
shock;  I  sprang  to  my  feet,  and  she  to  hers,  as  though 
we  had  been  discovered.  A  moment  after,  but  now 
both  standing,  we  had  again  approached  the  window 
on  either  side. 

" Flora,"  I  said,  "this  is  but  a  poor  offer  I  can  make 
you." 

She  took  my  hand  in  hers  and  clasped  it  to  her  bosom. 

"  Rich  enough  for  a  queen !  "  she  said,  with  a  lift  in 
her  breathing  that  was  more  eloquent  than  words. 
"Anne,  my  brave  Anne!  I  would  be  glad  to  be  your 
maidservant;    I  could  envy  that  boy  Rowley.     Rut, 

308 


THE  COTTAGE  AT  NIGHT 

no!  "  she  broke  off,  "  I  envy  no  one— I  need  not— I  am 
yours." 

"  Mine,"  said  I,  "  for  ever!     By  this  and  this,  mine!  " 

"All  of  me,"  she  repeated.  "Altogether,  and  for 
ever!  " 

And  if  the  god  were  envious,  he  must  have  seen  with 
mortification  how  little  he  could  do  to  mar  the  happiness 
of  mortals.  I  stood  in  a  mere  waterspout;  she  herself 
was  wet,  not  from  my  embrace  only,  but  from  the 
splashing  of  the  storm.  The  candles  had  gutted  out; 
we  were  in  darkness.  I  could  scarce  see  anything  but 
the  shining  of  her  eyes  in  the  dark  room.  To  her  I 
must  have  appeared  as  a  silhouette,  haloed  by  rain  and 
the  spouting  of  the  ancient  Gothic  gutter  above  my  head. 

Presently  we  became  more  calm  and  confidential;  and 
when  that  squall,  which  proved  to  be  the  last  of  the 
storm,  had  blown  by,  fell  into  a  talk  of  ways  and  means. 
It  seemed  she  knew  Mr.  Robbie,  to  whom  I  had  been  so 
slenderly  accredited  by  Romaine— was  even  invited  to 
his  house  for  the  evening  of  Monday,  and  gave  me  a 
sketch  of  the  old  gentleman's  character,  which  implied 
a  great  deal  of  penetration  in  herself  and  proved  of  great 
use  to  me  in  the  immediate  sequel.  It  seemed  he  was 
an  enthusiastic  antiquary,  and  in  particular  a  fanatic  of 
heraldry.  I  heard  it  with  delight,  for  I  was  myself, 
thanks  to  M.  de  Culemberg,  fairly  grounded  in  that  sci- 
ence, and  acquainted  with  the  blazons  of  most  families 
of  note  in  Europe.  And  I  had  made  up  my  mind— even 
as  she  spoke  it  was  my  fixed  determination,  though  I 
was  a  hundred  miles  from  saying  it— to  meet  Flora  on 
Monday  night  as  a  fellow-guest  in  Mr.  Robbie's  house. 

I  gave  her  my  money— it  was,  of  course,  only  paper 
309 


ST.  IVES 

I  had  brought.  I  gave  it  her,  to  be  her  marriage  portion, 
I  declared. 

"  Not  so  bad  a  marriage  portion  for  a  private  soldier," 
I  told  her,  laughing,  as  I  passed  it  through  the  bars. 

"  O,  Anne,  and  where  am  I  to  keep  it  ?  "  she  cried. 
"  If  my  aunt  should  find  it!     What  would  I  say  I  " 

"Next  your  heart,"  I  suggested. 

"Then  you  will  always  be  near  your  treasure,"  she 
cried,  "for  you  are  always  there!  " 

We  were  interrupted  by  a  sudden  clearness  that  fell 
upon  the  night.  The  clouds  dispersed ;  the  stars  shone 
in  every  part  of  the  heavens ;  and,  consulting  my  watch, 
I  was  startled  to  find  it  already  hard  on  five  in  the  morn- 
ing. 


IK) 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  SABBATH   DAY 

It  was  indeed  high  time  I  should  be  gone  from  Swans- 
ton  ;  but  what  I  was  to  do  in  the  meanwhile  was  an- 
other question.  Rowley  had  received  his  orders  last 
night:  he  was  to  say  that  I  had  met  a  friend,  and  Mrs. 
McRankine  was  not  to  expect  me  before  morning.  A 
good  enough  tale  in  itself;  but  the  dreadful  pickle  I  was 
in  made  it  out  of  the  question.  I  could  not  go  home  till 
I  had  found  harbourage,  a  fire  to  dry  my  clothes  at,  and 
a  bed  where  I  might  lie  till  they  were  ready. 

Fortune  favoured  me  again.  I  had  scarce  got  to  the 
top  of  the  first  hill  when  I  spied  a  light  on  my  left, 
about  a  furlong  away.  It  might  be  a  case  of  sickness ; 
what  else  it  was  likely  to  be— in  so  rustic  a  neighbour- 
hood, and  at  such  an  ungodly  time  of  the  morning— was 
beyond  my  fancy.  A  faint  sound  of  singing  became 
audible,  and  gradually  swelled  as  I  drew  near,  until  at 
last  I  could  make  out  the  words,  which  were  singularly 
appropriate  both  to  the  hour  and  to  the  condition  of  the 
singers.  "  The  cock  may  craw,  the  day  may  daw,"  they 
sang;  and  sang  it  with  such  laxity  both  in  time  and  tune, 
and  such  sentimental  complaisance  in  the  expression,  as 
assured  me  they  had  got  far  into  the  third  bottle  at  least. 

311 


ST.  IVES 

I  found  a  plain  rustic  cottage  by  the  wayside,  of  the 
sort  called  double,  with  a  signboard  over  the  door;  and, 
the  lights  within  streaming  forth  and  somewhat  miti- 
gating the  darkness  of  the  morning,  I  was  enabled  to 
decipher  the  inscription :  "  The  Hunters'  Tryst,  by  Alex- 
ander Hendry.    Porter,  Ales,  and  British  Spirits.    Beds." 

My  first  knock  put  a  period  to  the  music,  and  a  voice 
challenged  tipsily  from  within. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  it  said ;  and  I  replied,  "  A  lawful 
traveller." 

Immediately  after,  the  door  was  unbarred  by  a  com- 
pany of  the  tallest  lads  my  eyes  had  ever  rested  on,  all 
astonishingly  drunk  and  very  decently  dressed,  and  one 
(who  was  perhaps  the  drunkest  of  the  lot)  carrying  a 
tallow  candle,  from  which  he  impartially  bedewed  the 
clothes  of  the  whole  company.  As  soon  as  I  saw  them 
I  could  not  help  smiling  to  myself  to  remember  the  anx- 
iety with  which  I  had  approached.  They  received  me 
and  my  hastily  concocted  story,  that  I  had  been  walking 
from  Peebles  and  had  lost  my  way,  with  incoherent  be- 
nignity; jostled  me  among  them  into  the  room  where 
they  had  been  sitting,  a  plain  hedgerow  ale-house  par- 
lour, with  a  roaring  fire  in  the  chimney  and  a  prodigious 
number  of  empty  bottles  on  the  floor;  and  informed  me 
that  I  was  made,  by  this  reception,  a  temporary  mem- 
ber of  the  Six-Feet-High  Club,  an  athletic  society  of 
young  men  in  a  good  station,  who  made  of  the  Hunters' 
Tryst  a  frequent  resort.  They  told  me  I  had  intruded 
on  an  "all-night  sitting,"  following  upon  an  "all-day 
Saturday  tramp  "  of  forty  miles ;  and  that  the  members 
would  all  be  up  and  "  as  right  as  ninepence  "  for  the 
noonday  service  at  some  neighbouring  church— Colling- 

312 


THE  SABBATH   DAY 

wood,  if  memory  serves  me  right.  At  this  I  could  have 
laughed,  but  the  moment  seemed  ill  chosen.  For, 
though  six  feet  was  their  standard,  they  all  exceeded 
that  measurement  considerably ;  and  1  tasted  again  some 
of  the  sensations  of  childhood,  as  1  looked  up  to  all  these 
lads  from  a  lower  plane,  and  wondered  what  they 
would  do  next.  But  the  Six-Footers,  if  they  were  very 
drunk,  proved  no  less  kind.  The  landlord  and  servants 
of  the  Hunters'  Tryst  were  in  bed  and  asleep  long  ago. 
Whether  by  natural  gift  or  acquired  habit,  they  could 
suffer  pandemonium  to  reign  all  over  the  house  and  yet 
lie  ranked  in  the  kitchen  like  Egyptian  mummies,  only 
that  the  sound  of  their  snoring  rose  and  fell  ceaselessly, 
like  the  drone  of  a  bagpipe.  Here  the  Six-Footers  in- 
vaded them— in  their  citadel,  so  to  speak;  counted  the 
bunks  and  the  sleepers ;  proposed  to  put  me  in  bed  to 
one  of  the  lasses,  proposed  to  have  one  of  the  lasses  out 
to  make  room  for  me,  fell  over  chairs  and  made  noise 
enough  to  waken  the  dead:  the  whole  illuminated  by 
the  same  young  torch-bearer,  but  now  with  two  can- 
dles, and  rapidly  beginning  to  look  like  a  man  in  a  snow- 
storm. At  last  a  bed  was  found  for  me,  my  clothes 
were  hung  out  to  dry  before  the  parlour  fire,  and  I  was 
mercifully  left  to  my  repose. 

I  awoke  about  nine  with  the  sun  shining  in  my  eyes. 
The  landlord  came  at  my  summons,  brought  me  my 
clothes  dried  and  decently  brushed,  and  gave  me  the 
good  news  that  the  Six-Feet-High  Club  were  all  abed 
and  sleeping  off  their  excesses.  Where  they  were  be- 
stowed was  a  puzzle  to  me,  until  (as  1  was  strolling 
about  the  garden  patch  waiting  for  breakfast)  I  came  on 
a  barn  door,  and,  looking  in,  saw  all  the  red  faces  mixed 

3^^ 


ST.  IVES 

in  the  straw  like  plums  in  a  cake.  Quoth  the  stalwart 
maid  who  brought  me  my  porridge  and  bade  me  **  eat 
them  while  they  were  hot,"  "Ay,  they  were  a'  on  the 
randan  last  nicht!  Hout!  they're  fine  lads,  and  they'll 
be  nane  the  waur  of  it.  Forby  Farbes's  coat:  I  dinna 
see  wha's  to  get  the  creish  off  that!  "  she  added,  with 
a  sigh ;  in  which,  identifying  Forbes  as  the  torch-bearer, 
I  mentally  joined. 

It  was  a  brave  morning  when  I  took  the  road ;  the  sun 
shone,  spring  seemed  in  the  air,  it  smelt  like  April  or 
May,  and  some  over-venturous  birds  sang  in  the  cop- 
pices as  1  went  by.  I  had  plenty  to  think  of,  plenty 
to  be  grateful  for,  that  gallant  morning;  and  yet  I  had 
a  twitter  at  my  heart.  To  enter  the  city  by  daylight 
might  be  compared  to  marching  on  a  battery;  every  face 
that  I  confronted  would  threaten  me  like  the  muzzle  of 
a  gun;  and  it  came  into  my  head  suddenly  with  how 
much  better  a  countenance  I  should  be  able  to  do  it  if  I 
could  but  improvise  a  companion.  Hard  by  Merchiston, 
I  was  so  fortunate  as  to  observe  a  bulky  gentleman  in 
broadcloth  and  gaiters,  stooping  with  his  head  almost 
between  his  knees  before  a  stone  wall.  Seizing  occa- 
sion by  the  forelock,  I  drew  up  as  I  came  alongside  and 
inquired  what  he  had  found  to  interest  him. 

He  turned  upon  me  a  countenance  not  much  less 
broad  than  his  back. 

"Why,  sir,"  he  replied,  "I  was  even  marvelling  at 
my  own  indefeasible  stupeedity :  that  I  should  walk  this 
way  every  week  of  my  life,  weather  permitting,  and 
should  never  before  have  notitced  that  stone,"  touching 
it  at  the  same  time  with  a  goodly  oak  staff. 

I  followed  the  indication.  The  stone,  which  had  been 
3»4 


THE  SABBATH   DAY 

built  sideways  into  the  wall,  offered  traces  of  heraldic 
sculpture.  At  once  there  came  a  wild  idea  into  my 
mind :  his  appearance  tallied  with  Flora's  description  of 
Mr.  Robbie;  a  knowledge  of  heraldry  would  go  far  to 
clench  the  proof;  and  what  could  be  more  desirable  than 
to  scrape  an  informal  acquaintance  with  the  man  whom 
I  must  approach  next  day  with  my  tale  of  the  drovers, 
and  whom  I  yet  wished  to  please  ?     I  stooped  in  turn. 

"A  chevron,"  I  said;  "on  a  chief  three  mullets? 
Looks  like  Douglas,  does  it  not  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  it  does;  you  are  right,"  said  he:  "it  does 
look  like  Douglas;  though,  without  the  tinctures,  and 
the  whole  thing  being  so  battered  and  broken  up,  who 
shall  venture  an  opinion  ?  But  allow  me  to  be  more 
personal,  sir.  In  these  degenerate  days  I  am  astonished 
you  should  display  so  much  proficiency." 

"  O,  I  was  well  grounded  in  my  youth  by  an  old  gen- 
tleman, a  friend  of  my  family,  and  1  may  say  my  guar- 
dian," said  I ;  "  but  I  have  forgotten  it  since.  God  forbid 
I  should  delude  you  into  thinking  me  a  herald,  sir!  I 
am  only  an  ungrammatical  amateur." 

"  And  a  little  modesty  does  no  harm  even  in  a  herald," 
says  my  new  acquaintance  graciously. 

In  short,  we  fell  together  on  our  onward  way,  and 
maintained  very  amicable  discourse  along  what  remained 
of  the  country  road,  past  the  suburbs,  and  on  into  the 
streets  of  the  New  Town,  which  was  as  deserted  and 
silent  as  a  city  of  the  dead.  The  shops  were  closed,  no 
vehicle  ran,  cats  sported  in  the  midst  of  the  sunny  cause- 
way ;  and  our  steps  and  voices  re-echoed  from  the  quiet 
houses.  It  was  the  high-water,  full  and  strange,  of  that 
weekly  trance  to  which  the  city  of  Edinburgh  is  sub- 

3^5 


ST.  IVES 

jected :  the  apotheosis  of  the  Sawbath  ;  and  I  confess  the 
spectacle  wanted  not  grandeur,  however  much  it  may 
have  lacked  cheerfulness.  There  are  few  religious  cere- 
monies more  imposing.  As  we  thus  walked  and  talked 
in  a  public  seclusion,  the  bells  broke  out  ringing  through 
all  the  bounds  of  the  city,  and  the  streets  began  imme- 
diately to  be  thronged  with  decent  church-goers. 

"Ah!"  said  my  companion,  "there  are  the  bells! 
Now,  sir,  as  you  are  a  stranger,  I  must  offer  you  the 
hospitality  of  my  pew.  I  do  not  know  whether  you 
are  at  all  used  with  our  Scottish  form ;  but  in  case  you 
are  not,  I  will  find  your  places  for  you;  and  Dr.  Henry 
Gray,  of  St.  Mary's  (under  whom  I  sit),  is  as  good  a 
preacher  as  we  have  to  show  you." 

This  put  me  in  a  quandary.  It  was  a  degree  of  risk 
I  was  scarce  prepared  for.  Dozens  of  people,  who 
might  pass  me  by  in  the  street  with  no  more  than  a 
second  look,  would  go  on  from  the  second  to  the  third, 
and  from  that  to  a  final  recognition,  if  I  were  set  before 
them,  immobilised  in  a  pew,  during  the  whole  time  of 
service.  An  unlucky  turn  of  the  head  would  suffice 
to  arrest  their  attention.  "  Who  is  that  ?  "  they  would 
think:  "Surely,  I  should  know  him!  "  and,  a  church 
being  the  place  in  all  the  world  where  one  has  least  to 
think  of,  it  was  ten  to  one  they  would  end  by  remem- 
bering me  before  the  benediction.  However,  my  mind 
was  made  up :  I  thanked  my  obliging  friend,  and  placed 
myself  at  his  disposal. 

Our  way  now  led  us  into  the  north-east  quarter  of  the 
town,  among  pleasant  new  faubourgs,  to  a  decent  new 
church  of  a  good  size,  where  I  was  soon  seated  by  the 
side  of  my  good  Samaritan,  and  looked  upon  by  a  whole 

316 


THE  SABBATH   DAY 

congregation  of  menacing  faces.  At  first  the  possibility 
of  danger  kept  me  awake;  but  by  the  time  I  had  assured 
myself  there  was  none  to  be  apprehended,  and  the  ser- 
vice was  not  in  the  least  likely  to  be  enlivened  by  the 
arrest  of  a  French  spy,  I  had  to  resign  myself  to  the  task 
of  listening  to  Dr.  Henry  Gray. 

As  we  moved  out,  after  this  ordeal  was  over,  my 
friend  was  at  once  surrounded  and  claimed  by  his 
acquaintance  of  the  congregation;  and  I  was  rejoiced 
to  hear  him  addressed  by  the  expected  name  of 
Robbie. 

So  soon  as  we  were  clear  of  the  crowd—"  Mr.  Rob- 
bie ?  "  said  I,  bowing. 

"The  very  same,  sir,"  said  he. 

"  If  I  mistake  not,  a  lawyer  ?  " 

"A  writer  to  his  Majesty's  Signet,  at  your  service." 

"  It  seems  we  were  predestined  to  be  acquain- 
tances!" I  exclaimed.  "I  have  here  a  card  in  my 
pocket  intended  for  you.  It  is  from  my  family  lawyer. 
It  was  his  last  word,  as  I  was  leaving,  to  ask  to  be 
remembered  kindly,  and  to  trust  you  would  pass  over 
so  informal  an  introduction." 

And  I  offered  him  the  card. 

"  Ay,  ay,  my  old  friend  Daniel!  "  says  he,  looking  on 
the  card.     "  And  how  does  my  old  friend  Daniel  ?  " 

I  gave  a  favourable  view  of  Mr.  Romaine's  health. 

"  Well,  this  is  certainly  a  whimsical  incident,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  And  since  we  are  thus  met  already— and  so 
much  to  my  advantage!— the  simplest  thing  will  be  to 
prosecute  the  acquaintance  instantly.  Let  me  propose 
a  snack  between  sermons,  a  bottle  of  my  particular  green 
seal— and  when  nobody  is  looking,  we  can  talk  blazons, 

3>7 


ST.  IVES 

Mr.  Ducie!  "—which  was  the  name  I  then  used  and  had 
already  incidentally  mentioned,  in  the  vain  hope  of  pro- 
voking a  return  in  kind. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir:  do  I  understand  you  to  in- 
vite me  to  your  house  ?  "  said  I. 

"  That  was  the  idea  I  was  trying  to  convey,"  said  he. 
"  We  have  the  name  of  hospitable  people  up  here,  and 
I  would  like  you  to  try  mine." 

"  Mr.  Robbie,  I  shall  hope  to  try  it  some  day,  but  not 
yet,"  I  replied.  "I  hope  you  will  not  misunderstand 
me.  My  business,  which  brings  me  to  your  city,  is  of 
a  peculiar  kind.  Till  you  shall  have  heard  it,  and,  in- 
deed, till  its  issue  is  known,  I  should  feel  as  if  I  had 
stolen  your  invitation." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  he,  a  little  sobered,  "  it  must  be  as 
you  wish,  though  you  would  hardly  speak  otherwise  if 
you  had  committed  homicide !  Mine  is  the  loss.  I  must 
eat  alone;  a  very  pernicious  thing  for  a  person  of  my 
habit  of  body,  content  myself  with  a  pint  of  skinking 
claret,  and  meditate  the  discourse.  But  about  this  busi- 
ness of  yours :  if  it  is  so  parteicular  as  all  that,  it  will 
doubtless  admit  of  no  delay." 

"I  must  confess,  sir,  it  presses,"  I  acknowledged. 

"  Then,  let  us  say  to-morrow  at  half-past  eight  in  the 
morning,"  said  he;  "and  I  hope,  when  your  mind  is  at 
rest  (and  it  does  you  much  honour  to  take  it  as  you  do), 
that  you  will  sit  down  with  me  to  the  postponed  meal, 
not  forgetting  the  bottle.  You  have  my  address  ?  "  he 
added,  and  gave  it  me— which  was  the  only  thing  I 
wanted. 

At  last,  at  the  level  of  York  Place,  we  parted  with 
mutual  civilities,  and  I  was  free  to  pursue  my  way, 

318 


THE  SABBATH   DAY 

through  the  mobs  of  people  returning  from  church,  to 
my  lodgings  in  St.  James's  Square. 

Almost  at  the  house  door,  whom  should  I  overtake 
but  my  landlady  in  a  dress  of  gorgeous  severity,  and 
dragging  a  prize  in  her  wake:  no  less  than  Rowley, 
with  the  cockade  in  his  hat,  and  a  smart  pair  of  tops  to 
his  boots!  When  I  said  he  was  in  the  lady's  wake,  I 
spoke  but  in  metaphor.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was 
squiring  her,  with  the  utmost  dignity,  on  his  arm ;  and 
I  followed  them  up  the  stairs,  smiling  to  myself. 

Both  were  quick  to  salute  me  as  soon  as  I  was  per- 
ceived, and  Mrs.  McRankine  inquired  where  I  had  been. 
I  told  her  boastfully,  giving  her  the  name  of  the  church 
and  the  divine,  and  ignorantly  supposing  I  should  have 
gained  caste.  But  she  soon  opened  my  eyes.  In  the 
roots  of  the  Scottish  character  there  are  knots  and  con- 
tortions that  not  only  no  stranger  can  understand,  but 
no  stranger  can  follow;  he  walks  among  explosives; 
and  his  best  course  is  to  throw  himself  upon  their  mercy 
—"Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea,"  a  citation  from  one 
of  the  lady's  favourite  hymns. 

The  sound  she  made  was  unmistakable  in  meaning, 
though  it  was  impossible  to  be  written  down ;  and  I  at 
once  executed  the  manoeuvre  I  have  recommended. 

"  You  must  remember,  I  am  a  perfect  stranger  in  your 
city,"  said  I.  "If  I  have  done  wrong,  it  was  in  mere 
ignorance,  my  dear  lady ;  and  this  afternoon,  if  you  will 
be  so  good  as  to  take  me,  I  shall  accompany  ji^ow." 

But  she  was  not  to  be  pacified  at  the  moment,  and 
departed  to  her  own  quarters  murmuring. 

"Well,  Rowley,"  said  I;  "and  have  you  been  to 
church  ?  " 

V9 


ST.  IVES 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  you  have  not  been  any  less  unlucky  than  I 
have,"  I  returned.  "  And  how  did  you  get  on  with  the 
Scottish  form  ?  " 

"Well,  sir,  it  was  pretty  'ard,  the  form  was,  and 
reether  narrow,"  he  replied.  "  I  don't  know  w'y  it  is, 
but  it  seems  to  me  like  as  if  things  were  a  good  bit 
changed  since  William  Wallace!  That  was  a  main 
queer  church  she  took  me  to,  Mr.  Anne!  I  don't  know 
as  I  could  have  sat  it  out,  if  she  'adn't  'a'  give  me  pep- 
permints. She  ain't  a  bad  one  at  bottom,  the  old  girl; 
she  do  pounce  a  bit,  and  she  do  worry,  but,  law  bless 
you,  Mr.  Anne,  it  ain't  nothink  really— she  don't  mean 
it.  W'y,  she  was  down  on  me  like  a  'undredweight  of 
bricks  this  morning.  You  see,  last  night  she  'ad  me  in 
to  supper,  and,  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  1  took  the 
freedom  of  playing  her  a  chune  or  two.  She  didn't 
mind  a  bit;  so  this  morning  I  began  to  play  to  myself, 
and  she  flounced  in,  and  flew  up,  and  carried  on  no  end 
about  Sunday! " 

"  You  see,  Rowley,"  said  I,  "  they're  all  mad  up  here, 
and  you  have  to  humour  them.  See,  and  don't  quarrel 
with  Mrs.  McRankine;  and,  above  all,  don't  argue  with 
her,  or  you'll  get  the  worst  of  it.  Whatever  she  says, 
touch  your  forelock  and  say,  *  If  you  please !  '  or  '  I  beg 
pardon,  ma'am.'  And  let  me  tell  you  one  thing:  I  am 
sorry,  but  you  have  to  go  to  church  with  her  again  this 
afternoon.     That's  duty,  my  boy!  " 

As  1  had  foreseen,  the  bells  had  scarce  begun  before 
Mrs.  McRankine  presented  herself  to  be  our  escort,  upon 
which  I  sprang  up  with  readiness  and  offered  her  my 
arm.     Rowley  followed  behind.     I  was  beginning  to 

320 


THE  SABBATH   DAY 

grow  accustomed  to  the  risks  of  my  stay  in  Edinburgh, 
and  it  even  amused  me  to  confront  a  new  churchful.  I 
confess  the  amusement  did  not  last  until  the  end ;  for  if 
Dr.  Gray  were  long,  Mr.  McCraw  was  not  only  longer, 
but  more  incoherent,  and  the  matter  of  his  sermon 
(which  was  a  direct  attack,  apparently,  on  all  the 
Churches  of  the  world,  my  own  among  the  number), 
where  it  had  not  the  tonic  quality  of  personal  insult, 
rather  inclined  me  to  slumber.  But  I  braced  myself  for 
my  life,  kept  up  Rowley  with  the  end  of  a  pin,  and 
came  through  it  awake,  but  no  more. 

Bethiah  was  quite  conquered  by  this  "  mark  of  grace," 
though,  I  am  afraid,  she  was  also  moved  by  more 
worldly  considerations.  The  first  is,  the  lady  had  not 
the  least  objection  to  go  to  church  on  the  arm  of  an  ele- 
gantly dressed  young  gentleman,  and  be  followed  by  a 
spruce  servant  with  a  cockade  in  his  hat.  I  could  see  it 
by  the  way  she  took  possession  of  us,  found  us  the 
places  in  the  Bible,  whispered  to  me  the  name  of  the 
minister,  passed  us  lozenges,  which  I  (for  my  part) 
handed  on  to  Rowley,  and  at  each  fresh  attention  stole 
a  little  glance  about  the  church  to  make  sure  she  was 
observed.  Rowley  was  a  pretty  boy ;  you  will  pardon 
me,  if  1  also  remembered  that  1  was  a  favourable-look- 
ing young  man.  When  we  grow  elderly,  how  the 
room  brightens,  and  begins  to  look  as  it  ought  to  look, 
on  the  entrance  of  youth,  grace,  health,  and  comeliness ! 
You  do  not  want  them  for  yourself,  perhaps  not  even 
for  your  son,  but  you  look  on  smiling;  and  when  you 
recall  their  images— again,  it  is  with  a  smile.  I  defy  you 
to  see  or  think  of  them  and  not  smile  with  an  infinite 
and  intimate,  but  quite  impersonal,   pleasure.     Well, 

321 


ST-  IVES 

either  I  know  nothing  of  women,  or  that  was  the  case 
with  Bethiah  McRankine.  She  had  been  to  church  with 
a  cockade  behind  her,  on  the  one  hand;  on  the  other, 
her  house  was  brightened  by  the  presence  of  a  pair  of 
good-looking  young  fellows  of  the  other  sex,  who  were 
always  pleased  and  deferential  in  her  society  and  ac- 
cepted her  views  as  final. 

These  were  sentiments  to  be  encouraged;  and,  on  the 
way  home  from  church— if  church  it  could  be  called— I 
adopted  a  most  insidious  device  to  magnify  her  interest. 
I  took  her  into  the  confidence,  that  is,  of  my  love-affair, 
and  I  had  no  sooner  mentioned  a  young  lady  with  whom 
my  affections  were  engaged  than  she  turned  upon  me  a 
face  of  awful  gravity. 

"  Is  she  bonny  ?  "  she  inquired. 

I  gave  her  full  assurances  upon  that. 

"  To  what  denoamination  does  she  beloang  ?  "  came 
next,  and  was  so  unexpected  as  almost  to  deprive  me 
of  breath. 

"  Upon  my  word,  ma'am,  I  have  never  inquired,"  cried 
I ;  "  I  only  know  that  she  is  a  heartfelt  Christian,  and 
that  is  enough." 

"  Ay !  "  she  sighed,  "  if  she  has  the  root  of  the  mait- 
ter!  There's  a  remnant  practically  in  most  of  the  de- 
noaminations.  There's  some  in  the  McGlashanites, 
and  some  in  the  Glassites,  and  mony  in  the  McMil- 
lanites,  and  there's  a  leeven  even  in  the  Estayblish- 
ment." 

"  I  have  known  some  very  good  Papists  even,  if  you 
go  to  that,*'  said  I. 

"Mr.  Ducie,  think  shame  to  yoursel'!  "  she  cried. 

"Why,  my  dear  madam!     I  only—"  I  began. 
322 


THE  SABBATH    DAY 

"You  shouldnae  jest  in  sairious  maitters,"  she  inter- 
rupted. 

On  the  whole,  she  entered  into  what  I  chose  to  tell 
her  of  our  idyll  with  avidity,  like  a  cat  licking  her  whis- 
kers over  a  dish  of  cream;  and,  strange  to  say— and  so 
expansive  a  passion  is  that  of  love!— that  I  derived  a 
perhaps  equal  satisfaction  from  confiding  in  that  breast 
of  iron.  It  made  an  immediate  bond:  from  that  hour 
we  seemed  to  be  welded  into  a  family  party;  and  I  had 
little  difficulty  in  persuading  her  to  join  us  and  to  pre- 
side over  our  tea-table.  Surely  there  was  never  so  ill- 
matched  a  trio  as  Rowley,  Mrs.  McRankine,  and  the 
Viscount  Anne!  But  I  am  of  the  Apostle's  way,  with 
a  difference:  all  things  to  all  women!  When  I  cannot 
please  a  woman,  hang  me  in  my  cravat! 


323 


CHAPTER  XXVIIl 

EVENTS   OF   MONDAY:    THE    LAWYER'S   PARTY 

By  half-past  eight  o'clock  on  the  next  morning,  I  was 
ringing  the  bell  of  the  lawyer's  office  in  Castle  Street, 
where  I  found  him  ensconced  at  a  business  table,  in  a 
room  surrounded  by  several  tiers  of  green  tin  cases. 
He  greeted  me  like  an  old  friend. 

"  Come  away,  sir,  come  away!  "  said  he.  "  Here  is 
the  dentist  ready  for  you,  and  I  think  I  can  promise  you 
that  the  operation  will  be  practically  painless." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  Mr.  Robbie,"  I  replied,  as 
I  shook  hands  with  him.  "  But  at  least  there  shall  be 
no  time  lost  with  me." 

I  had  to  confess  to  having  gone  a-roving  with  a  pair 
of  drovers  and  their  cattle,  to  having  used  a  false  name, 
to  having  murdered  or  half-murdered  a  fellow-creature 
in  a  scuffle  on  the  moors,  and  to  having  suffered  a  couple 
of  quite  innocent  men  to  lie  some  time  in  prison  on  a 
charge  from  which  I  could  have  immediately  freed  them. 
All  this  I  gave  him  first  of  all,  to  be  done  with  the  worst 
of  it;  and  all  this  he  took  with  gravity,  but  without  the 
least  appearance  of  surprise. 

"  Now,  sir,"  I  continued,  "  I  expect  to  have  to  pay  for 
my  unhappy  frolic,  but  I  would  like  very  well  if  it  could 

324 


EVENTS  OF  MONDAY:  THE  LAWYER'S  PARTY 

be  managed  without  my  personal  appearance  or  even 
the  mention  of  my  real  name.  I  had  so  much  wisdom 
as  to  sail  under  false  colours  in  this  foolish  jaunt  of  mine ; 
my  family  would  be  extremely  concerned  if  they  had 
wind  of  it ;  but  at  the  same  time,  if  the  case  of  this  Faa 
has  terminated  fatally,  and  there  are  proceedings  against 
Todd  and  Candlish,  I  am  not  going  to  stand  by  and  see 
them  vexed,  far  less  punished;  and  I  authorise  you  to 
give  me  up  for  trial  if  you  think  that  best— or,  if  you 
think  it  unnecessary,  in  the  meanwhile  to  make  prepa- 
rations for  their  defence.  I  hope,  sir,  that  I  am  as  little 
anxious  to  be  Quixotic,  as  I  am  determined  to  be  just." 

''Very  fairly  spoken,"  said  Mr.  Robbie.  "It  is  not 
much  in  my  line,  as  doubtless  your  friend,  Mr.  Romaine, 
will  have  told  you.  I  rarely  mix  myself  up  with  any- 
thing on  the  criminal  side,  or  approaching  it.  However, 
for  a  young  gentleman  like  you,  I  may  stretch  a  point, 
and  I  dare  say  1  may  be  able  to  accomplish  more  than 
perhaps  another.  I  will  go  at  once  to  the  Procurator 
Fiscal's  office  and  inquire." 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Mr.  Robbie,"  said  I.  "  You  forget 
the  chapter  of  expenses.  I  had  thought,  for  a  beginning, 
of  placing  a  thousand  pounds  in  your  hands." 

"  My  dear  sir,  you  will  kindly  wait  until  I  render  you 
my  bill,"  said  Mr.  Robbie  severely. 

"  It  seemed  to  me,"  I  protested,  "  that,  coming  to  you 
almost  as  a  stranger,  and  placing  in  your  hands  a  piece 
of  business  so  contrary  to  your  habits,  some  substantial 
guarantee  of  my  good  faith—" 

"Not  the  way  that  we  do  business  in  Scotland,  sir," 
he  interrupted,  with  an  air  of  closing  the  dispute. 

"  And  yet,  Mr.  Robbie,"  I  continued,  "  I  must  ask  you 
}^5 


ST.  IVES 

to  allow  me  to  proceed.  I  do  not  merely  refer  to  the 
expenses  of  the  case.  I  have  my  eye  besides  on  Todd 
and  Candlish.  They  are  thoroughly  deserving  fellows ; 
they  have  been  subjected  through  me  to  a  considerable 
term  of  imprisonment;  and  I  suggest,  sir,  that  you 
should  not  spare  money  for  their  indemnification.  This 
will  explain,"  I  added,  smiling,  "my  offer  of  the  thou- 
sand pounds.  It  was  in  the  nature  of  a  measure  by 
which  you  should  judge  the  scale  on  which  I  can  afford 
to  have  this  business  carried  through." 

"  I  take  you  perfectly,  Mr.  Ducie,"  said  he.  "  But  the 
sooner  I  am  off,  the  better  this  affair  is  like  to  be  guided. 
My  clerk  will  show  you  into  the  waiting-room  and  give 
you  the  day's  Caledonian  Mercury  and  the  last  Register 
to  amuse  yourself  with  in  the  interval." 

I  believe  Mr.  Robbie  was  at  least  three  hours  gone. 
I  saw  him  descend  from  a  cab  at  the  door,  and  almost 
immediately  after  1  was  shown  again  into  his  study, 
where  the  solemnity  of  his  manner  led  me  to  augur  the 
worst.  For  some  time  he  had  the  inhumanity  to  read 
me  a  lecture  as  to  the  incredible  silliness,  "  not  to  say 
immorality,"  of  my  behaviour.  "  I  have  the  more  satis- 
faction in  telling  you  my  opinion,  because  it  appears  that 
you  are  going  to  get  off  scot-free,"  he  continued,  where, 
indeed,  I  thought  he  might  have  begun. 

"  The  man,  Faa,  has  been  dischairged  cured ;  and  the 
two  men,  Todd  and  Candlish,  would  have  been  leeber- 
ated  long  ago,  if  it  had  not  been  for  their  extraordinary 
loyalty  to  yourself,  Mr.  Ducie— or  Mr.  St.  Ivy,  as  I  be- 
lieve I  should  now  call  you.  Never  a  word  would  either 
of  the  two  old  fools  volunteer  that  in  any  manner 
pointed  at  the  existence  of  such  a  person;  and  when 

326 


EVENTS  OF  MONDAY:  THE  LAWYER'S  PARTY 

they  were  confronted  with  Faa's  version  of  the  affair, 
they  gave  accounts  so  entirely  discrepant  with  their  own 
former  declarations,  as  well  as  with  each  other,  that  the 
Fiscal  was  quite  nonplussed,  and  imaigined  there  was 
something  behind  it.  You  may  believe  I  soon  laughed 
him  out  of  that !  And  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
your  two  friends  set  free,  and  very  glad  to  be  on  the 
causeway  again." 

"O,  sir,"  I  cried,  "you  should  have  brought  them 
here." 

"No  instructions,  Mr.  Ducie!  "  said  he.  "How  did 
I  know  you  wished  to  renew  an  acquaintance  which 
you  had  just  terminated  so  fortunately  ?  And,  indeed, 
to  be  frank  with  you,  I  should  have  set  my  face  against 
it,  if  you  had !  Let  them  go !  They  are  paid  and  con- 
tented, and  have  the  highest  possible  opinion  of  Mr.  St. 
Ivy!  When  I  gave  them  fifty  pounds  apiece— which 
was  rather  more  than  enough,  Mr.  Ducie,  whatever  you 
may  think— the  man  Todd,  who  has  the  only  tongue  of 
the  party,  struck  his  staff  on  the  ground.  *  Weel,'  says 
he,  '  I  aye  said  he  was  a  gentleman ! '  *  Man  Todd,*  said 
I,  'that  was  just  what  Mr.  St.  Ivy  said  of  yourself!  * " 

"  So  it  was  a  case  of  *  Compliments  fly  when  gentle- 
folk meet.'" 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Ducie,  man  Todd  and  man  Candlish  are 
gone  out  of  your  life,  and  a  good  riddance!  They  are 
fine  fellows  in  their  way,  but  no  proper  associates  for 
the  like  of  yourself;  and  do  you  finally  agree  to  be  done 
with  all  eccentricity— take  up  with  no  more  drovers,  or 
rovers,  or  tinkers,  but  enjoy  the  naitural  pleesures  for 
which  your  age,  your  wealth,  your  intelligence,  and  (if  I 
may  be  allowed  to  say  it)  your  appearance  so  completely 

327 


ST.  IVES 

fit  you.  And  the  first  of  these,"  quoth  he,  looking  at 
his  watch,  "  will  be  to  step  through  to  my  dining-room 
and  share  a  bachelor's  luncheon." 

Over  the  meal,  which  was  good,  Mr.  Robbie  contin- 
ued to  develop  the  same  theme.  "  You're,  no  doubt, 
what  they  call  a  dancing-man  ?  "  said  he.  "  Well,  on 
Thursday  night  there  is  the  Assembly  Ball.  You  must 
certainly  go  there,  and  you  must  permit  me  besides  to 
do  the  honours  of  the  ceety  and  send  you  a  ticket  I 
am  a  thorough  believer  in  a  young  man  being  a  young 
man— but  no  more  drovers  or  rovers,  if  you  love  me! 
Talking  of  which  puts  me  in  mind  that  you  may  be 
short  of  partners  at  the  Assembly~0,  I  have  been  young 
myself !— and  if  ye  care  to  come  to  anything  so  porten- 
tiously  tedious  as  a  tea-party  at  the  house  of  a  bachelor 
lawyer,  consisting  mainly  of  his  nieces  and  nephews, 
and  his  grand-nieces  and  grand-nephews,  and  his  wards, 
and  generally  the  whole  clan  of  the  descendants  of  his 
clients,  you  might  drop  in  to-night  towards  seven  o'clock. 
1  think  I  can  show  you  one  or  two  that  are  worth  look- 
ing at,  and  you  can  dance  with  them  later  on  at  the 
Assembly." 

He  proceeded  to  give  me  a  sketch  of  one  or  two  eli- 
gible young  ladies  whom  I  might  expect  to  meet.  "  And 
then  there's  my  parteecular  friend.  Miss  Flora,"  said  he. 
"  But  I'll  make  no  attempt  of  a  description.  You  shall 
see  her  for  yourself." 

It  will  be  readily  supposed  that  I  accepted  his  invita- 
tion; and  returned  home  to  make  a  toilette  worthy  of 
her  I  was  to  meet  and  the  good  news  of  which  I  was 
the  bearer.  The  toilette,  I  have  reason  to  believe,  was 
a  success.     Mr.  Rowley  dismissed  me  with  a  farewell; 

^28 


EVENTS  OF  MONDAY:  THE  LAWYER'S  PARTY 

"Crikey!  Mr.  Anne,  but  you  do  look  prime!  "  Even 
the  stony  Bethiah  was— how  shall  I  say  ?— dazzled,  but 
scandalised,  by  my  appearance;  and  while,  of  course, 
she  deplored  the  vanity  that  led  to  it,  she  could  not 
wholly  prevent  herself  from  admiring  the  result. 

"  Ay,  Mr.  Ducie,  this  is  a  poor  employment  for  a 
wayfaring  Christian  man!  "  she  said.  "  Wi'  Christ  de- 
spised and  rejectit  in  all  pairts  of  the  world,  and  the  flag 
of  the  Covenant  flung  doon,  you  will  be  muckle  better 
on  your  knees!  However,  I'll  have  to  confess  that  it 
sets  you  weel.  And  if  it's  the  lassie  ye're  gaun  to  see 
the  nicht,  I  suppose  I'll  just  have  to  excuse  ye!  Bairns 
maun  be  bairns !  "  she  said,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  mind  when 
Mr.  McRankine  came  courtin',  and  that's  lang  by-gane 
—I  mind  I  had  a  green  gown,  passementit,  that  was 
thocht  to  become  me  to  admiration.  I  was  nae  just 
exactly  what  ye  would  ca'  bonny ;  but  I  was  pale,  pene- 
tratin',  and  interestin'."  And  she  leaned  over  the  stair- 
rail  with  a  candle  to  watch  my  descent  as  long  as  it 
should  be  possible. 

It  was  but  a  little  party  at  Mr.  Robbie's— by  which, 
I  do  not  so  much  mean  that  there  were  few  people,  for 
the  rooms  were  crowded,  as  that  there  was  very  little 
attempted  to  entertain  them.  In  one  apartment  there 
were  tables  set  out,  where  the  elders  were  solemnly 
engaged  upon  whist;  in  the  other  and  larger  one,  a 
great  number  of  youth  of  both  sexes  entertained  them- 
selves languidly,  the  ladies  sitting  upon  chairs  to  be 
courted,  the  gentlemen  standing  about  in  various  atti- 
tudes of  insinuation  or  indifference.  Conversation  ap- 
peared the  sole  resource,  except  in  so  far  as  it  was  modi- 
fied by  a  number  of  keepsakes  and  annuals  which 

329 


ST.  IVES 

lay  dispersed  upon  the  tables,  and  of  which  the  young 
beaux  displayed  the  illustrations  to  the  ladies.  Mr. 
Robbie  himself  was  customarily  in  the  card-room ;  only 
now  and  again,  when  he  cut  out,  he  made  an  incursion 
among  the  young  folks,  and  rolled  about  jovially  from 
one  to  another,  the  very  picture  of  the  general  uncle. 

It  chanced  that  Flora  had  met  Mr.  Robbie  in  the  course 
of  the  afternoon.  "Now,  Miss  Flora,"  he  had  said, 
"  come  early,  for  I  have  a  Phoenix  to  show  you— one 
Mr.  Ducie,  a  new  client  of  mine  that,  I  vow,  I  have 
fallen  in  love  with  " ;  and  he  was  so  good  as  to  add  a 
word  or  two  on  my  appearance,  from  which  Flora  con- 
ceived a  suspicion  of  the  truth.  She  had  come  to  the 
party,  in  consequence,  on  the  knife-edge  of  anticipation 
and  alarm;  had  chosen  a  place  by  the  door,  where  I 
found  her,  on  my  arrival,  surrounded  by  a  posse  of 
vapid  youths;  and,  when  I  drew  near,  sprang  up  to 
meet  me  in  the  most  natural  manner  in  the  world,  and, 
obviously,  with  a  prepared  form  of  words. 

''  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Ducie  ?  "  she  said.  "  It  is  quite 
an  age  since  I  have  seen  you!  " 

"I  have  much  to  tell  you,  Miss  Gilchrist,"  I  replied. 
"  May  I  sit  down  ?  " 

For  the  artful  girl,  by  sitting  near  the  door,  and  the 
judicious  use  of  her  shawl,  had  contrived  to  keep  a  chair 
empty  by  her  side. 

She  made  room  for  me,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  the 
youths  had  the  discretion  to  melt  before  us.  As  soon 
as  I  was  once  seated  her  fan  flew  out,  and  she  whis- 
pered behind  it: 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  " 

"Madly  in  love,"  1  replied;  "but  in  no  other  sense." 
330 


EVENTS  OF  MONDAY:   THE   LAWYER'S   PARTY 

"I  have  no  patience!  You  cannot  understand  what 
I  am  suffering!  "  she  said.  ''What  are  you  to  say  to 
Ronald,  to  Major  Chevenix,  to  my  aunt  ?  " 

"  Your  aunt  ?  "  I  cried,  with  a  start.  "  Peccavi!  is  she 
here  }  " 

"She  is  in  the  card-room  at  whist,"  said  Flora. 

"  Where  she  will  probably  stay  all  the  evening  ?  "  I 
suggested. 

"She  may,"  she  admitted;  "she  generally  does!  " 

"Well,  then,  I  must  avoid  the  card-room,"  said  I, 
"  which  is  very  much  what  I  had  counted  upon  doing. 
I  did  not  come  here  to  play  cards,  but  to  contemplate  a 
certain  young  lady  to  my  heart's  content— if  it  can  ever 
be  contented!— and  to  tell  her  some  good  news." 

"  But  there  are  still  Ronald  and  the  major!  "  she  per- 
sisted. "They  are  not  card-room  fixtures!  Ronald 
will  be  coming  and  going.  And  as  for  Mr.  Chevenix, 
he-" 

"  Always  sits  with  Miss  Flora  ?  "  I  interrupted.  "  And 
they  talk  of  poor  St.  Ives  }  I  had  gathered  as  much, 
my  dear;  and  Mr.  Ducie  has  come  to  prevent  it!  But 
pray  dismiss  these  fears !    I  mind  no  one  but  your  aunt. " 

"  Why  my  aunt }  " 

"  Because  your  aunt  is  a  lady,  my  dear,  and  a  very 
clever  lady,  and,  like  all  clever  ladies,  a  very  rash  lady," 
said  I.  "  You  can  never  count  upon  them,  unless  you 
are  sure  of  getting  them  in  a  corner,  as  I  have  got  you, 
and  talking  them  over  rationally,  as  I  am  just  engaged 
on  with  yourself!  It  would  be  quite  the  same  to  your 
aunt  to  make  the  worst  kind  of  a  scandal,  with  an  equal 
indifference  to  my  danger  and  to  the  feelings  of  our 
good  host!  " 

331 


ST.  IVES 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  and  what  of  Ronald,  then  ?  Do 
you  think  he  is  above  making  a  scandal  ?  You  must 
know  him  very  little!  " 

*'  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  my  pretension  that  I  know 
him  very  well!  "  1  replied.  "I  must  speak  to  Ronald 
first— not  Ronald  to  me— that  is  all!  " 

"Then,  please,  go  and  speak  to  him  at  once!  "  she 
pleaded.  "  He  is  there— do  you  see  ?— at  the  upper  end 
of  the  room,  talking  to  that  girl  in  pink." 

"  And  so  lose  this  seat  before  I  have  told  you  my  good 
news  ?  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Catch  me!  And,  besides,  my 
dear  one,  think  a  little  of  me  and  my  good  news!  I 
thought  the  bearer  of  good  news  was  always  welcome! 
I  hoped  he  might  be  a  little  welcome  for  himself!  Con- 
sider! I  have  but  one  friend;  and  let  me  stay  by  her! 
And  there  is  only  one  thing  I  care  to  hear;  and  let  me 
hear  it!" 

"  O,  Anne,"  she  sighed,  "  if  I  did  not  love  you,  why 
should  I  be  so  uneasy?  I  am  turned  into  a  coward, 
dear!  Think,  if  it  were  the  other  way  round— if  you 
were  quite  safe  and  I  was  in,  O  such  danger! " 

She  had  no  sooner  said  it  than  I  was  convicted  of  being 
a  dullard.  "God  forgive  me,  dear!"  I  made  haste  to 
reply,  "  I  never  saw  before  that  there  were  two  sides  to 
this!  "  And  I  told  her  my  tale  as  briefly  as  I  could,  and 
rose  to  seek  Ronald.  "You  see,  my  dear,  you  are 
obeyed,"  I  said. 

She  gave  me  a  look  that  was  a  reward  in  itself;  and 
as  I  turned  away  from  her,  with  a  strong  sense  of  turn- 
ing away  from  the  sun,  I  carried  that  look  in  my  bosom 
like  a  caress.  The  girl  in  pink  was  an  arch,  ogling  per- 
son, with  a  good  deal  of  eyes  and  teeth,  and  a  great  play 

332 


EVENTS  OF  MONDAY:  THE  LAWYER'S  PARTY 

of  shoulders  and  rattle  of  conversation.  There  could  be 
no  doubt,  from  Master  Ronald's  attitude,  that  he  wor- 
shipped the  very  chair  she  sat  on.  But  I  was  quite 
ruthless.  I  laid  my  hand  on  his  shoulder,  as  he  was 
stooping  over  her  like  a  hen  over  a  chicken. 

"  Excuse  me  for  one  moment,  Mr.  Gilchrist!  "  said  I. 

He  started  and  span  about  in  answer  to  my  touch,  and 
exhibited  a  face  of  inarticulate  wonder. 

"  Yes!  "  I  continued,  "  it  is  even  myself!  Pardon  me 
for  interrupting  so  agreeable  a  tete-d-tete,  but  you  know, 
my  good  fellow,  we  owe  a  first  duty  to  Mr.  Robbie.  It 
would  never  do  to  risk  making  a  scene  in  the  man's 
drawing-room ;  so  the  first  thing  I  had  to  attend  to  was 
to  have  you  warned.  The  name  I  go  by  is  Ducie,  too, 
in  case  of  accidents." 

" I— I  say,  you  know!  "  cried  Ronald.  "Deuce  take 
it,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Hush,  hush !  "  said  I.  "  Not  the  place,  my  dear  fel- 
low—not the  place.  Come  to  my  rooms,  if  you  like, 
to-night  after  the  party,  or  to-morrow  in  the  morning, 
and  we  can  talk  it  out  over  a  cigar.  But  here,  you 
know,  it  really  won't  do  at  all." 

Before  he  could  collect  his  mind  for  an  answer,  I  had 
given  him  my  address  in  St.  James's  Square,  and  had 
again  mingled  with  the  crowd.  Alas !  I  was  not  fated 
to  get  back  to  Flora  so  easily !  Mr.  Robbie  was  in  the 
path :  he  was  insatiably  loquacious ;  and  as  he  continued 
to  palaver  I  watched  the  insipid  youths  gather  again 
about  my  idol,  and  cursed  my  fate  and  my  host.  He 
remembered  suddenly  that  I  was  to  attend  the  Assembly 
Ball  on  Thursday,  and  had  only  attended  to-night  by 
way  of  a  preparative.     This  put  it  into  his  head  to  pre- 


ST.  IVES 

sent  me  to  another  young  lady;  but  I  managed  this  in- 
terview with  so  much  art  that,  while  I  was  scrupulously 
polite  and  even  cordial  to  the  fair  one,  I  contrived  to 
keep  Robbie  beside  me  all  the  time  and  to  leave  along 
with  him  when  the  ordeal  was  over.  We  were  just 
walking  away  arm  in  arm,  when  I  spied  my  friend  the 
major  approaching,  stiff  as  a  ramrod  and,  as  usual,  ob- 
trusively clean. 

"  O!  there's  a  man  I  want  to  know,"  said  I,  taking  the 
bull  by  the  horns.  "  Won't  you  introduce  me  to  Major 
Chevenix  ?  " 

"At  a  word,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Robbie;  and 
"Major!"  he  cried,  "come  here  and  let  me  present  to 
you  my  friend  Mr.  Ducie,  who  desires  the  honour  of 
your  acquaintance." 

The  major  flushed  visibly,  but  otherwise  preserved 
his  composure.  He  bowed  very  low.  "  I'm  not  very 
sure,"  he  said:  "  I  have  an  idea  we  have  met  before  ?  " 

"  Informally,"  I  said,  returning  his  bow;  "  and  I  have 
long  looked  forward  to  the  pleasure  of  regularising  our 
acquaintance." 

"  You  are  very  good,  Mr.  Ducie,"  he  returned.  "  Per- 
haps you  could  aid  my  memory  a  little  ?  Where  was 
it  that  I  had  the  pleasure  ?  " 

"  O,  that  would  be  telling  tales  out  of  school,"  said  I, 
with  a  laugh,  "and  before  my  lawyer,  too! " 

"I'll  wager,"  broke  in  Mr.  Robbie,  "that,  when  you 
knew  my  client,  Chevenix— the  past  of  our  friend  Mr. 
Ducie  is  an  obscure  chapter  full  of  horrid  secrets— I'll 
wager  now  you  knew  him  as  St.  Ivy,"  says  he,  nudg- 
ing me  violently. 

"I  think  not,  sir,"  said  the  major,  with  pinched  lips. 
334 


EVENTS  OF  MONDAY:   THE   LAWYER'S   PARTY 

"  Well,  I  wish  he  may  prove  all  right!  "  continued  the 
lawyer,  with  certainly  the  worst-inspired  jocularity  in 
the  world.  **  I  know  nothing  by  him !  He  may  be  a 
swell  mobsman  for  me  with  his  aliases.  You  must  put 
your  memory  on  the  rack,  major,  and  when  ye've  re- 
membered when  and  where  ye  met  him,  be  sure  ye  tell 
me." 

"  I  will  not  fail,  sir,"  said  Chevenix. 

"  Seek  to  him ! "  cried  Robbie,  waving  his  hand  as  he 
departed. 

The  major,  as  soon  as  we  were  alone,  turned  upon 
me  his  impassive  countenance. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "you  have  courage." 

"It  is  undoubted  as  your  honour,  sir,"  I  returned, 
bowing. 

"  Did  you  expect  to  meet  me,  may  I  ask  ?  "  said  he. 

"You  saw,  at  least,  that  I  courted  the  presentation," 
said  I. 

"  And  you  were  not  afraid  ?  "  said  Chevenix. 

"  I  was  perfectly  at  ease.  I  knew  I  was  dealing  with 
a  gentleman.     Be  that  your  epitaph." 

"  Well,  there  are  some  other  people  looking  for  you," 
he  said,  "  who  will  make  no  bones  about  the  point  of 
honour.  The  police,  my  dear  sir,  are  simply  agog  about 
you." 

"And  I  think  that  that  was  coarse,"  said  I. 

"  You  have  seen  Miss  Gilchrist  ?  "  he  inquired,  chang- 
ing the  subject. 

"  With  whom,  I  am  led  to  understand,  we  are  on  a 
footing  of  rivalry  ?  "  I  asked.     "  Yes,  I  have  seen  her." 

"  And  I  was  just  seeking  her,"  he  replied. 

I  was  conscious  of  a  certain  thrill  of  temper;  so,  I 
^55 


ST.  IVES 

suppose,  was  he.  We  looked  each  other  up  and 
down. 

"The  situation  is  original,"  he  resumed. 

"  Quite,"  said  I.  **  But  let  me  tell  you  frankly  you  are 
blowing  a  cold  coal.  I  owe  you  so  much  for  your 
kindness  to  the  prisoner  Champdivers." 

*'  Meaning  that  the  lady's  affections  are  more  advan- 
tageously disposed  of  ? "  he  asked,  with  a  sneer. 
"  Thank  you,  I  am  sure.  And,  since  you  have  given 
me  a  lead,  just  hear  a  word  of  good  advice  in  your  turn. 
Is  it  fair,  is  it  delicate,  is  it  like  a  gentleman,  to  com- 
promise the  young  lady  by  attentions  which  (as  you 
know  very  well)  can  come  to  nothing  ?  " 

1  was  utterly  unable  to  find  words  in  answer. 

"Excuse  me  if  I  cut  this  interview  short,"  he  went 
on.  "  It  seems  to  me  doomed  to  come  to  nothing,  and 
there  is  more  attractive  metal." 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "as  you  say,  it  cannot  amount  to 
much.  You  are  impotent,  bound  hand  and  foot  in  hon- 
our.  You  know  me  to  be  a  man  falsely  accused,  and 
even  if  you  did  not  know  it,  from  your  position  as  my 
rival  you  have  only  the  choice  to  stand  quite  still  or  to 
be  infamous." 

"  I  would  not  say  that,"  he  returned,  with  another 
change  of  colour.     "  I  may  hear  it  once  too  often." 

With  which  he  moved  off  straight  for  where  Flora 
was  sitting  amidst  her  court  of  vapid  youths,  and  I  had 
no  choice  but  to  follow  him,  a  bad  second,  and  reading 
myself,  as  I  went,  a  sharp  lesson  on  the  command  of 
temper. 

It  is  a  strange  thing  how  young  men  in  their  teens  go 
down  at  the  mere  wind  of  the  coming  of  men  of  twenty- 

336 


EVENTS  OF  MONDAY:  THE  LAWYER'S  PARTY 

five  and  upward!  The  vapid  ones  fled  without  thought 
of  resistance  before  the  major  and  me;  a  few  dallied 
awhile  in  the  neighbourhood— so  to  speak,  with  their 
fingers  in  their  mouths— but  presently  these  also  fol- 
lowed  the  rout,  and  we  remained  face  to  face  before 
Flora.  There  was  a  draught  in  that  corner  by  the  door; 
she  had  thrown  her  pelisse  over  her  bare  arms  and  neck, 
and  the  dark  fur  of  the  trimming  set  them  off.  She 
shone  by  contrast;  the  light  played  on  her  smooth  skin 
to  admiration,  and  the  colour  changed  in  her  excited  face. 
For  the  least  fraction  of  a  second  she  looked  from  one 
to  the  other  of  her  pair  of  rival  swains,  and  seemed  to 
hesitate.     Then  she  addressed  Chevenix:  — 

"  You  are  coming  to  the  Assembly,  of  course,  Major 
Chevenix  ?  "  said  she. 

"  I  fear  not;  I  fear  I  shall  be  otherwise  engaged,"  he 
replied.  "  Even  the  pleasure  of  dancing  with  you,  Miss 
Flora,  must  give  way  to  duty." 

For  a  while  the  talk  ran  harmlessly  on  the  weather, 
and  then  branched  off  towards  the  war.  It  seemed  to 
be  by  no  one's  fault;  it  was  in  the  air,  and  had  to  come. 

"  Good  news  from  the  scene  of  operations,"  said  the 
major. 

"  Good  news  while  it  lasts,"  I  said.  "  But  will  Miss 
Gilchrist  tell  us  her  private  thought  upon  the  war  ?  In 
her  admiration  for  the  victors,  does  not  there  mingle 
some  pity  for  the  vanquished  ?  " 

"Indeed,  sir,"  she  said,  with  animation,  "only  too 
much  of  it!  War  is  a  subject  that  I  do  not  think  should 
be  talked  of  to  a  girl.  I  am,  I  have  to  be— what  do  you 
call  it  ? — a  non-combatant  ?  And  to  remind  me  of  what 
others  have  to  do  and  suffer:  no,  it  is  not  fair! " 

337 


ST.  IVES 

"Miss  Gilchrist  has  the  tender  female  heart,"  said 
Chevenix. 

"  Do  not  be  too  sure  of  that!  "  she  cried.  "  I  would 
love  to  be  allowed  to  fight  myself!  " 

"  On  which  side  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Can  you  ask  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  am  a  Scottish 
girl!" 

"She  is  a  Scottish  girl!  "  repeated  the  major,  looking 
at  me.     "  And  no  one  grudges  you  her  pity!  " 

"And  1  glory  in  every  grain  of  it  she  has  to  spare," 
said  I.     "  Pity  is  akin  to  love." 

"  Well,  and  let  us  put  that  question  to  Miss  Gilchrist. 
It  is  for  her  to  decide,  and  for  us  to  bow  to  the  decision. 
Is  pity.  Miss  Flora,  or  is  admiration,  nearest  love  ?  " 

"O,  come,"  said  I,  "let  us  be  more  concrete.  Lay 
before  the  lady  a  complete  case :  describe  your  man,  then 
I'll  describe  mine,  and  Miss  Flora  shall  decide." 

"I  think  1  see  your  meaning,"  said  he,  "and  Til  try. 
You  think  that  pity— and  the  kindred  sentiments— have 
the  greatest  power  upon  the  heart.  1  think  more  nobly 
of  women.  To  my  view,  the  man  they  love  will  first 
of  all  command  their  respect;  he  will  be  steadfast- 
proud,  if  you  please;  dry,  possibly— but  of  all  things 
steadfast.  They  will  look  at  him  in  doubt;  at  last  they 
will  see  that  stern  face  which  he  presents  to  all  the  rest 
of  the  world  soften  to  them  alone.  First,  trust,  I  say. 
It  is  so  that  a  woman  loves  who  is  worthy  of  heroes." 

"  Your  man  is  very  ambitious,  sir,"  said  I,  "and  very 
much  of  a  hero!  Mine  is  a  humbler,  and,  I  would  fain 
think,  a  more  human  dog.  He  is  one  with  no  particular 
trust  in  himself,  vWith  no  superior  steadfastness  to  be 
admired  for,  who  sees  a  lady's  face,  who  hears  her 

338 


EVENTS  OF  MONDAY:  THE  LAWYER'S  PARTY 

voice,  and,  without  any  phrase  about  the  matter,  falls 
in  love.  What  does  he  ask  for,  then,  but  pity  ?— pity 
for  his  weakness,  pity  for  his  love,  which  is  his  life. 
You  would  make  women  always  the  inferiors,  gaping 
up  at  your  imaginary  lover;  he,  like  a  marble  statue, 
with  his  nose  in  the  air!  But  God  has  been  wiser  than 
you;  and  the  most  steadfast  of  your  heroes  may  prove 
human,  after  all.  We  appeal  to  the  queen  for  judg- 
ment," I  added,  turning  and  bowing  before  Flora. 

"  And  how  shall  the  queen  judge  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I 
must  give  you  an  answer  that  is  no  answer  at  all.  *  The 
wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth ' :  she  goes  where  her 
heart  goes." 

Her  face  flushed  as  she  said  it;  mine  also,  for  I  read 
in  it  a  declaration,  and  my  heart  swelled  for  joy.  But 
Chevenix  grew  pale. 

"  You  make  of  life  a  very  dreadful  kind  of  a  lottery, 
ma'am,"  said  he.  "  But  I  will  not  despair.  Honest  and 
unornamental  is  still  my  choice." 

And  I  must  say  he  looked  extremely  handsome  and 
very  amusingly  like  the  marble  statue  with  its  nose  in 
the  air  to  which  I  had  compared  him. 

"I  cannot  imagine  how  we  got  upon  this  subject," 
said  Flora. 

"  Madam,  it  was  through  the  war,"  replied  Chevenix. 

"All  roads  lead  to  Rome,"  I  commented.  "What 
else  would  you  expect  Mr.  Chevenix  and  myself  to  talk 
of?" 

About  this  time  I  was  conscious  of  a  certain  bustle 
and  movement  in  the  room  behind  me,  but  did  not  pay 
to  it  that  degree  of  attention  which  perhaps  would  have 
been  wise.     There  came  a  certain  change  in  Flora's  face ; 

339 


ST.  IVES 

she  signalled  repeatedly  with  her  fan ;  her  eyes  appealed 
to  me  obsequiously;  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  she 
wanted  something— as  well  as  I  could  make  out,  that  I 
should  go  away  and  leave  the  field  clear  for  my  rival, 
which  I  had  not  the  least  idea  of  doing.  At  last  she 
rose  from  her  chair  with  impatience. 

"I  think  it  time  you  were  saying  good  night,  Mr. 
Ducie!"  she  said. 

I  could  not  in  the  least  see  why,  and  said  so. 

Whereupon  she  gave  me  this  appalling  answer,  "  My 
aunt  is  coming  out  of  the  card-room." 

In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell,  1  had  made  my  bow 
and  my  escape.  Looking  back  from  the  doorway,  1 
was  privileged  to  see,  for  a  moment,  the  august  profile 
and  gold  eye-glasses  of  Miss  Gilchrist  issuing  from  the 
card-room ;  and  the  sight  lent  me  wings.  I  stood  not 
on  the  order  of  my  going;  and  a  moment  after,  I  was  on 
the  pavement  of  Castle  Street,  and  the  lighted  windows 
shone  down  on  me,  and  were  crossed  by  ironical  shad- 
ows of  those  who  had  remained  behind. 


340 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
EVENTS  OF  Tuesday:  the  toils  closing 

This  day  began  with  a  surprise.  I  found  a  letter  on 
my  breakfast-table  addressed  to  Edward  Ducie,  Esquire ; 
and  at  first  I  was  startled  beyond  measure.  "  Conscience 
doth  make  cowards  of  us  all ! "  When  1  had  opened  it, 
it  proved  to  be  only  a  note  from  the  lawyer,  enclosing 
a  card  for  the  Assembly  Ball  on  Thursday  evening. 
Shortly  after,  as  I  was  composing  my  mind  with  a  cigar 
at  one  of  the  windows  of  the  sitting-room,  and  Rowley, 
having  finished  the  light  share  of  work  that  fell  to  him, 
sat  not  far  off  tootling  with  great  spirit  and  a  marked 
preference  for  the  upper  octave,  Ronald  was  suddenly 
shown  in.  I  got  him  a  cigar,  drew  in  a  chair  to  the  side 
of  the  fire,  and  installed  him  there— I  was  going  to  say, 
at  his  ease,  but  no  expression  could  be  further  from  the 
truth.  He  was  plainly  on  pins  and  needles,  did  not 
know  whether  to  take  or  to  refuse  the  cigar,  and,  after 
he  had  taken  it,  did  not  know  whether  to  light  or  to 
return  it.  I  saw  he  had  something  to  say;  I  did  not 
think  it  was  his  own  something;  and  I  was  ready  to 
offer  a  large  bet  it  was  really  something  of  Major  Chev- 
enix's. 

"  Well,  and  so  here  you  are! "  I  observed,  with  point- 
341 


ST.  IVES 

less  cordiality,  for  I  was  bound  I  should  do  nothing  to 
help  him  out.  If  he  were,  indeed,  here  running  errands 
for  my  rival,  he  might  have  a  fair  field,  but  certainly  no 
favour. 

"The  fact  is,"  he  began,  "I  would  rather  see  you 
alone." 

"  Why,  certainly,"  I  replied.  "  Rowley,  you  can  step 
into  the  bedroom.  My  dear  fellow,"  I  continued,  "  this 
sounds  serious.     Nothing  wrong,  I  trust." 

"  Well,  I'll  be  quite  honest,"  said  he.  "I  am  a.  good 
deal  bothered." 

"  And  I  bet  I  know  why !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  And  I  bet 
I  can  put  you  to  rights,  too !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  must  be  hard  up,"  said  I,  "  and  all  I  can  say  is, 
youVe  come  to  the  right  place.  If  you  have  the  least 
use  for  a  hundred  pounds,  or  any  such  trifling  sum 
as  that,  please  mention  it.  It's  here,  quite  at  your  ser- 
vice." 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  most  kind  of  you,"  said  Ronald,  "  and 
the  truth  is,  though  I  can't  think  how  you  guessed  it, 
that  I  really  am  a  little  behind  board.  But  I  haven't 
come  to  talk  about  that." 

"  No,  I  dare  say !  "  cried  I.  "  Not  worth  talking  about! 
But  remember,  Ronald,  you  and  I  are  on  different  sides 
of  the  business.  Remember  that  you  did  me  one  of 
those  services  that  make  men  friends  for  ever.  And 
since  I  have  had  the  fortune  to  come  into  a  fair  share  of 
money,  just  oblige  me,  and  consider  so  much  of  it  as 
your  own." 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  couldn't  take  it;  I  couldn't,  really. 
Besides,  the  fact  is,  I've  come  on  a  very  different  mat- 

34a 


EVENTS  OF  TUESDAY:  THE  TOILS  CLOSING 

ter.  It's  about  my  sister,  St.  Ives,"  and  he  shook  his 
head  menacingly  at  me. 

"  You're  quite  sure  ?  "  I  persisted.  "  It's  here,  at  your 
service— up  to  five  hundred  pounds,  if  you  like.  Weil, 
all  right;  only  remember  where  it  is,  when  you  do 
want  it." 

"O,  please  let  me  alone!"  cried  Ronald:  "I've  come 
to  say  something  unpleasant;  and  how  on  earth  can  I 
do  it,  if  you  don't  give  a  fellow  a  chance  ?  It's  about 
my  sister,  as  I  said.  You  can  see  for  yourself  that  it 
can't  be  allowed  to  go  on.  It's  compromising;  it  don't 
lead  to  anything;  and  you're  not  the  kind  of  man  (you 
must  feel  it  yourself)  that  I  can  allow  my  female  rela- 
tives to  have  anything  to  do  with.  I  hate  saying  this, 
St.  Ives;  it  looks  like  hitting  a  man  when  he's  down, 
you  know;  I  told  the  major  I  very  much  disliked  it  from 
the  first.  However,  it  had  to  be  said;  and  now  it  has 
been,  and,  between  gentlemen,  it  shouldn't  be  necessary 
to  refer  to  it  again." 

"It's  compromising;  it  doesn't  lead  to  anything;  not 
the  kind  of  man,"  I  repeated  thoughtfully.  "Yes,  I 
believe  I  understand,  and  shall  make  haste  to  put  my- 
self en  regie."'  I  stood  up,  and  laid  my  cigar  down. 
"  Mr.  Gilchrist,"  said  I,  with  a  bow,  "  in  answer  to  your 
very  natural  observations,  I  beg  to  offer  myself  as  a 
suitor  for  your  sister's  hand.  I  am  a  man  of  title,  of 
which  we  think  lightly  in  France  ,but  of  ancient  lineage, 
which  is  everywhere  prized.  I  can  display  thirty-two 
quarterings  without  a  blot.  My  expectations  are  cer- 
tainly above  the  average:  I  believe  my  uncle's  income 
averages  about  thirty  thousand  pounds,  though  I  admit 
I  was  not  careful  to  inform  myself.     Put  it  anywhere 

343 


ST.  IVES 

between  fifteen  and  fifty  thousand;  it  is  certainly  not 
less." 

"All  this  is  very  easy  to  say,"  said  Ronald,  with  a 
pitying  smile.  "  Unfortunately,  these  things  are  in  the 
air." 

"Pardon  me,— in  Buckinghamshire,"  said  1,  smiling. 

"  Well,  what  I  mean  is,  my  dear  St.  Ives,  that  you 
can't  prove  them,"  he  continued.  "  They  might  just  as 
well  not  be:  do  you  follow  me?  You  can't  bring  us 
any  third  party  to  back  you  up." 

"  O,  come!  "  cried  1,  springing  up  and  hurrying  to  the 
table.  "You  must  excuse  me!"  I  wrote  Romaine's 
address.  "  There  is  my  reference,  Mr.  Gilchrist.  Until 
you  have  written  to  him,  and  received  his  negative  an- 
swer, I  have  a  right  to  be  treated,  and  I  shall  see  that 
you  treat  me,  as  a  gentleman." 

He  was  brought  up  with  a  round  turn  at  that. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  St.  Ives,"  said  he.  "  Believe  me, 
I  had  no  wish  to  be  offensive.  But  there's  the  difficulty 
of  this  affair;  I  can't  make  any  of  my  points  without 
offence!  You  must  excuse  me,  it's  not  my  fault.  But, 
at  any  rate,  you  must  see  for  yourself  this  proposal  of 
marriage  is— is  merely  impossible,  my  dear  fellow.  It's 
nonsense!  Our  countries  are  at  war;  you  are  a  pris- 
oner." 

"My  ancestor  of  the  time  of  the  Ligue,"  I  replied, 
"  married  a  Huguenot  lady  out  of  the  Saintonge,  riding 
two  hundred  miles  through  an  enemy's  country  to  bring 
oflf  his  bride;  and  it  was  a  happy  marriage." 

"Well!  "  he  began;  and  then  looked  down  into  the 
fire,  and  became  silent. 

"  Well  ?  "  I  asked. 

344 


EVENTS  OF  TUESDAY:  THE  TOILS  CLOSING 

"Well,  there's  this  business  of— Goguelat,"  said  he, 
still  looking  at  the  coals  in  the  grate. 

"  What!  "  I  exclaimed,  starting  in  my  chair.  "  What's 
that  you  say  ?  " 

"This  business  about  Goguelat,"  he  repeated. 

"  Ronald,"  said  I,  "  this  is  not  your  doing.  These  are 
not  your  own  words.  I  know  where  they  came  from : 
a  coward  put  them  in  your  mouth." 

"  St.  Ives !  "  he  cried,  "  why  do  you  make  it  so  hard 
for  me  ?  and  where's  the  use  of  insulting  other  people  ? 
The  plain  English  is,  that  I  can't  hear  of  any  proposal 
of  marriage  from  a  man  under  a  charge  like  that.  You 
must  see  it  for  yourself,  man!  It's  the  most  absurd 
thing  I  ever  heard  of!  And  you  go  on  forcing  me  to 
argue  with  you,  too !  " 

"  Because  I  have  had  an  affair  of  honour  which  ter- 
minated unhappily,  you— a  young  soldier,  or  next  door 
to  it— refuse  my  offer  ?  Do  I  understand  you  aright  ?  " 
said  I. 

"My  dear  fellow!"  he  wailed,  "of  course  you  can 
twist  my  words,  if  you  like.  You  say  it  was  an  affair 
of  honour.  Well,  I  can't,  of  course,  tell  you  that— I 
can't—  I  mean,  you  must  see  that  that's  just  the  point  I 
Was  it?     I  don't  know." 

"  I  have  the  honour  to  inform  you,"  said  I. 

'*Well,  other  people  say  the  reverse,  you  see!" 

"They  lie,  Ronald,  and  I  will  prove  it  in  time." 

"  The  short  and  the  long  of  it  is,  that  any  man  who 
is  so  unfortunate  as  to  have  such  things  said  about  him 
is  not  the  man  to  be  my  brother-in-law! "  he  cried. 

"  Do  you  know  who  will  be  my  first  witness  at  the 
court  ?    Arthur  Chevenix ! "  said  I. 

345 


ST.  IVES 

"  I  don't  care! "  he  cried,  rising  from  his  chair  and  be- 
ginning to  pace  outrageously  about  the  room.  "  What 
do  you  mean,  St.  Ives  ?  What  is  this  about  ?  It's  like 
a  dream,  I  declare !  You  made  an  offer,  and  I  have  re- 
fused it.  I  don't  like  it,  I  don't  want  it;  and  whatever 
I  did,  or  didn't,  wouldn't  matter— my  aunt  wouldn't 
hear  of  it  anyway!  Can't  you  take  your  answer, 
man  ?  " 

"  You  must  remember,  Ronald,  that  we  are  playing 
with  edged  tools,"  said  I.  "An  offer  of  marriage  is  a 
delicate  subject  to  handle.  You  have  refused,  and  you 
have  justified  your  refusal  by  several  statements.  First, 
that  I  was  an  impostor;  second,  that  our  countries  were 
at  war;  and  third—  No,  I  will  speak,"  said  I;  "you 
can  answer  when  I  have  done,— and  third,  that  I  had 
dishonourably  killed— or  was  said  to  have  done  so— the 
man  Goguelat.  Now,  my  dear  fellow,  these  are  very 
awkward  grounds  to  be  taking.  From  any  one  else's 
lips  I  need  scarce  tell  you  how  I  should  resent  them ;  but 
my  hands  are  tied.  I  have  so  much  gratitude  to  you, 
without  talking  of  the  love  I  bear  your  sister,  that  you 
insult  me,  when  you  do  so,  under  the  cover  of  a  com- 
plete impunity.  I  must  feel  the  pain— and  I  do  feel  it 
acutely— I  can  do  nothing  to  protect  myself." 

He  had  been  anxious  enough  to  interrupt  me  in  the 
beginning;  but  now,  and  after  I  had  ceased,  he  stood  a 
long  while  silent. 

"St.  Ives,"  he  said  at  last,  "I  think  I  had  better  go 
away.  This  has  been  very  irritating.  I  never  at  all 
meant  to  say  anything  of  the  kind,  and  I  apologise  to 
you.  I  have  all  the  esteem  for  you  that  one  gentleman 
should  have  for  another.     I  only  meant  to  tell  you— to 

346 


EVENTS  OF  TUESDAY:  THE  TOILS  CLOSING 

show  you  what  had  influenced  my  mind;  and  that,  in 
short,  the  thing  was  impossible.  One  thing  you  may 
be  quite  sure  of:  /  shall  do  nothing  against  you.  Will 
you  shake  hands  before  I  go  away  ?"  he  blurted  out. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "I  agree  with  you— the  interview  has 
been  irritating.  Let  bygones  be  bygones.  Good-bye, 
Ronald." 

"Good-bye,  St.  Ives!"  he  returned.  "I'm  heartily 
sorry." 

And  with  that  he  was  gone. 

The  windows  of  my  own  sitting-room  looked  towards 
the  north ;  but  the  entrance  passage  drew  its  light  from 
the  direction  of  the  square.  Hence  I  was  able  to  ob- 
serve Ronald's  departure,  his  very  disheartened  gait, 
and  the  fact  that  he  was  joined,  about  half-way,  by  no 
less  a  man  than  Major  Chevenix.  At  this,  I  could  scarce 
keep  from  smiling;  so  unpalatable  an  interview  must  be 
before  the  pair  of  them,  and  I  could  hear  their  voices, 
clashing  like  crossed  swords,  in  that  eternal  antiphony 
of  "  I  told  you,"  and  "  I  told  you  not."  Without  doubt, 
they  had  gained  very  little  by  their  visit;  but  then  I  had 
gained  less  than  nothing,  and  had  been  bitterly  dispirited 
into  the  bargain.  Ronald  had  stuck  to  his  guns  and 
refused  me  to  the  last.  It  was  no  news;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  could  not  be  contorted  into  good  news. 
I  was  now  certain  that,  during  my  temporary  absence  in 
France,  all  irons  would  be  put  into  the  fire,  and  the 
world  turned  upside  down,  to  make  Flora  disown  the 
obtrusive  Frenchman  and  accept  Chevenix.  Without 
doubt  she  would  resist  these  instances ;  but  the  thought 
of  them  did  not  please  me,  and  I  felt  she  should  be 
warned  and  prepared  for  the  battle. 

347 


ST.  IVES 

It  was  no  use  to  try  to  see  her  now,  but  I  promised 
myself  early  that  evening  to  return  to  Swanston.  In 
the  meantime  I  had  to  make  all  my  preparations,  and 
look  the  coming  journey  in  the  face.  Here  in  Edinburgh 
I  was  within  four  miles  of  the  sea,  yet  the  business  of 
approaching  random  fishermen  with  my  hat  in  the  one 
hand  and  a  knife  in  the  other  appeared  so  desperate, 
that  I  saw  nothing  for  it  but  to  retrace  my  steps  over 
the  northern  counties,  and  knock  a  second  time  at  the 
doors  of  Burchell  Fenn.  To  do  this,  money  would  be 
necessary;  and  after  leaving  my  paper  in  the  hands  of 
Flora  I  had  still  a  balance  of  about  fifteen  hundred 
pounds.  Or  rather  I  may  say  I  had  them  and  I  had  them 
not;  for  after  my  luncheon  with  Mr.  Robbie  I  had  placed 
the  amount,  all  but  thirty  pounds  of  change,  in  a  bank 
in  George  Street,  on  a  deposit  receipt  in  the  name  of 
Mr.  Rowley.  This  I  had  designed  to  be  my  gift  to  him, 
in  case  I  must  suddenly  depart.  But  now,  thinking 
better  of  the  arrangement,  I  despatched  my  little  man, 
cockade  and  all,  to  lift  the  fifteen  hundred. 

He  was  not  long  gone,  and  returned  with  a  flushed 
face  and  the  deposit  receipt  still  in  his  hand. 

"No  go,  Mr.  Anne,"  says  he. 

"  How's  that  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"Well,  sir,  I  found  the  place  all  right,  and  no  mis- 
take," said  he.  "But  I  tell  you  wot  gave  me  a  blue 
fright!  There  was  a  customer  standing  by  the  door, 
and  I  reckonised  him !  Who  do  you  think  it  was,  Mr. 
Anne  ?  W'y,  that  same  Red  Breast— him  I  had  break- 
fast with  near  Aylesbury." 

"  You  are  sure  you  are  not  mistaken  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Certain  sure,"  he  replied.  "Not  Mr.  Lavender,  I 
348 


EVENTS  OF  TUESDAY:  THE  TOILS  CLOSING 

don't  mean,  sir;  I  mean  the  other  party.  'Wot's  he 
doin'  here  ?  '  says  I.     *  It  don't  look  right.' " 

"Not  by  any  means,"  I  agreed. 

I  walked  to  and  fro  in  the  apartment  reflecting.  This 
particular  Bow-street  runner  might  be  here  by  accident; 
but  it  was  to  imagine  a  singular  play  of  coincidence 
that  he,  who  had  met  Rowley  and  spoken  with  him  in 
the  Green  Dragon,  hard  by  Aylesbury,  should  be  now 
in  Scotland,  where  he  could  have  no  legitimate  business, 
and  by  the  doors  of  the  bank  where  Rowley  kept  his 
account. 

"  Rowley,"  said  I,  "  he  didn't  see  you,  did  he  ?  " 

*'  Never  a  fear,"  quoth  Rowley.  "  W'y,  Mr.  Anne,  sir, 
if  he  *ad  you  wouldn't  have  seen  me  any  more!  I  ain't 
a  hass,  sir!" 

"  Well,  my  boy,  you  can  put  that  receipt  in  your 
pocket.  You'll  have  no  more  use  for  it  till  you're  quite 
clear  of  me.  Don't  lose  it,  though ;  it's  your  share  of 
the  Christmas  box :  fifteen  hundred  pounds  all  for  your- 
self." 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  Mr.  Anne,  sir,  but  wot  for  ?  " 
said  Rowley. 

"To  set  up  a  public-house  upon,"  said  I. 

"  If  you'll  excuse  me,  sir,  I  ain't  got  any  call  to  set  up 
a  public-house,  sir,"  he  replied  stoutly.  "And  I  tell 
you  wot,  sir,  it  seems  to  me  I'm  reether  young  for  the 
billet.  I'm  your  body-servant,  Mr.  Anne,  or  else  I'm 
nothink." 

"Well,  Rowley,"  I  said,  "I'll  tell  you  what  it's  for. 
It's  for  the  good  service  you  have  done  me,  of  which  I 
don't  care— and  don't  dare— to  speak.  It's  for  your 
loyalty  and  cheerfulness,  my  dear  boy.     I  had  meant  it 

349 


ST.  IVES 

for  you;  but  to  tell  you  the  truth,  ifs  past  mending  now 
—it  has  to  be  yours.  Since  that  man  is  waiting  by  the 
bank,  the  money  can't  be  touched  until  I'm  gone." 

"  Until  you're  gone,  sir  ?  "  re-echoed  Rowley.  "  You 
don't  go  anywheres  without  me,  I  can  tell  you  that,  Mr. 
Anne,  sir!" 

"Yes,  my  boy,"  said  I,  "we  are  going  to  part  very 
soon  now ;  probably  to-morrow.  And  it's  for  my  sake, 
Rowley !  Depend  upon  it,  if  there  was  any  reason  at 
all  for  that  Bow-street  man  being  at  the  bank,  he  was 
not  there  to  look  out  for  you.  How  they  could  have 
found  out  about  the  account  so  early  is  more  than  I  can 
fathom ;  some  strange  coincidence  must  have  played  me 
false!  But  there  the  fact  is;  and,  Rowley,  I'll  not  only 
have  to  say  farewell  to  you  presently,  I'll  have  to  ask 
you  to  stay  indoors  until  I  can  say  it.  Remember,  my 
boy,  it's  only  so  that  you  can  serve  me  now." 

"  W'y,  sir,  you  say  the  word,  and  of  course  I'll  do 
it!"  he  cried.  "'Nothink  by  'alves,'  is  my  motto! 
I'm  your  man,  through  thick  and  thin,  live  or  die,  I 
am!  " 

In  the  meantime  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  till  to- 
wards sunset.  My  only  chance  now  was  to  come  again 
as  quickly  as  possible  to  speech  of  Flora,  who  was  my 
only  practicable  banker;  and  not  before  evening  was  it 
worth  while  to  think  of  that.  I  might  compose  myself 
as  well  as  I  was  able  over  the  Caledonian  Mercury,  with 
its  ill  news  of  the  campaign  of  France  and  belated  docu- 
ments about  the  retreat  from  Russia;  and,  as  I  sat  there 
by  the  fire,  I  was  sometimes  all  awake  with  anger  and 
mortification  at  what  I  was  reading,  and  sometimes 
again  I  would  be  three  parts  asleep  as  I  dozed  over  the 

350 


EVENTS  OF  TUESDAY:  THE  TOILS  CLOSING 

barren  items  of  home  intelligence.  "  Lately  arrived  "— 
this  is  what  I  suddenly  stumbled  on— "at  Dumbreck's 
Hotel,  the  Viscount  of  Saint-Yves." 

"Rowley,"  said  I. 

"If  you  please,  Mr.  Anne,  sir,"  answered  the  obse- 
quious, lowering  his  pipe. 

"  Come  and  look  at  this,  my  boy,"  said  I,  holdmg  out 
the  paper. 

"  My  crikey !  "  said  he.  "  That's  'im,  sir,  sure 
enough ! " 

"  Sure  enough,  Rowley,"  said  I.  "  He's  on  the  trail. 
He  has  fairly  caught  up  with  us.  He  and  this  Bow- 
street  man  have  come  together,  I  would  swear.  And 
now  here  is  the  whole  field,  quarry,  hounds  and  hunters, 
all  together  in  this  city  of  Edinburgh." 

"  And  wot  are  you  goin'  to  do  now,  sir  ?  Tell  you 
wot,  let  me  take  it  in  'and,  please!  Gimme  a  minute, 
and  I'll  disguise  myself,  and  go  out  to  this  Dum— to  this 
hotel,  leastways,  sir— and  see  wot  he's  up  to.  You  put 
your  trust  in  me,  Mr.  Anne:  I'm  fly,  don't  you  make  no 
mistake  about  it.  I'm  all  a-growing  and  a-blowing,  I 
am." 

"  Not  one  foot  of  you,"  said  I.  "  You  are  a  prisoner, 
Rowley,  and  make  up  your  mind  to  that.  So  am  I,  or 
next  door  to  it.  I  showed  it  you  for  a  caution ;  if  you 
go  on  the  streets,  it  spells  death  to  me,  Rowley." 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  says  Rowley. 

"Come  to  think  of  it,"  I  continued,  "you  must  take 
a  cold,  or  something.  No  good  of  awakening  Mrs. 
McRankine's  suspicions." 

"  A  cold  ?  "  he  cried,  recovering  immediately  from  his 
depression.     "  I  can  do  it,  Mr.  Anne." 

35 » 


ST.  IVES 

And  he  proceeded  to  sneeze  and  cough  and  blow  his 
nose,  till  I  could  not  restrain  myself  from  smiling. 

"O,  I  tell  you,  I  know  a  lot  of  them  dodges,"  he  ob- 
served proudly. 

"Well,  they  come  in  very  handy,"  said  I. 

"  I'd  better  go  at  once  and  show  it  to  the  old  gal, 
'adn't  I  ?  "  he  asked. 

I  told  him,  by  all  means ;  and  he  was  gone  upon  the 
instant,  gleeful  as  though  to  a  game  of  football. 

I  took  up  the  paper  and  read  carelessly  on,  my 
thoughts  engaged  with  my  immediate  danger,  till  I 
struck  on  the  next  paragraph :  — 

"  In  connection  with  the  recent  horrid  murder  in  the 
castle,  we  are  desired  to  make  public  the  following  in- 
telligence. The  soldier,  Champdivers,  is  supposed  to 
be  in  the  neighbourhood  of  this  city.  He  is  about  the 
middle  height  or  rather  under,  of  a  pleasing  appearance 
and  highly  genteel  address.  When  last  heard  of  he 
wore  a  fashionable  suit  of  pearl-grey,  and  boots  with 
fawn-coloured  tops.  He  is  accompanied  by  a  servant 
about  sixteen  years  of  age,  speaks  English  without  any 
accent,  and  passed  under  the  alias  of  Ramornie.  A 
reward  is  offered  for  his  apprehension." 

In  a  moment  I  was  in  the  next  room,  stripping  from 
me  the  pearl-coloured  suit! 

I  confess  I  was  now  a  good  deal  agitated.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  watch  the  toils  closing  slowly  and  surely  about 
you,  and  to  retain  your  composure;  and  I  was  glad  that 
Rowley  was  not  present  to  spy  on  my  confusion.  I 
was  flushed,  my  breath  came  thick;  I  cannot  remember 
a  time  when  I  was  more  put  out. 

And  yet  I  must  wait  and  do  nothing,  and  partake  of 


EVENTS  OF  TUESDAY:  THE  TOILS  CLOSING 

my  meals,  and  entertain  the  ever-garrulous  Rowley,  as 
though  I  were  entirely  my  own  man.  And  if  1  did  not 
require  to  entertain  Mrs.  McRankine  also,  that  was  but 
another  drop  of  bitterness  in  my  cup !  For  what  ailed 
my  landlady,  that  she  should  hold  herself  so  severely 
aloof,  that  she  should  refuse  conversation,  that  her  eyes 
should  be  reddened,  that  I  should  so  continually  hear 
the  voice  of  her  private  supplications  sounding  through 
the  house  ?  I  was  much  deceived,  or  she  had  read  the 
insidious  paragraph  and  recognised  the  comminated 
pearl-grey  suit.  I  remembered  now  a  certain  air  with 
which  she  had  laid  the  paper  on  my  table,  and  a  certain 
sniff,  between  sympathy  and  defiance,  with  which  she 
had  announced  it:  "There's  your  Mercury  for  ye!  " 

In  this  direction,  at  least,  I  saw  no  pressing  danger; 
her  tragic  countenance  betokened  agitation ;  it  was  plain 
she  was  wrestling  with  her  conscience,  and  the  battle 
still  hung  dubious.  The  question  of  what  to  do  troubled 
me  extremely.  I  could  not  venture  to  touch  such  an 
intricate  and  mysterious  piece  of  machinery  as  my  land- 
lady's spiritual  nature ;  it  might  go  off  at  a  word,  and  in 
any  direction,  like  a  badly  made  firework.  And  while 
I  praised  myself  extremely  for  my  wisdom  in  the  past, 
that  I  had  made  so  much  a  friend  of  her,  I  was  all  abroad 
as  to  my  conduct  in  the  present.  There  seemed  an 
equal  danger  in  pressing  and  in  neglecting  the  accus- 
tomed marks  of  familiarity.  The  one  extreme  looked 
like  impudence,  and  might  annoy;  the  other  was  a 
practical  confession  of  guilt.  Altogether,  it  was  a  good 
hour  for  me  when  the  dusk  began  to  fall  in  earnest  on 
the  streets  of  Edinburgh,  and  the  voice  of  an  early 
watchman  bade  me  set  forth. 

353 


ST.  IVES 

I  reached  the  neighbourhood  of  the  cottage  before 
seven ;  and  as  I  breasted  the  steep  ascent  which  leads  to 
the  garden  wall,  I  was  struck  with  surprise  to  hear  a 
dog.  Dogs  I  had  heard  before,  but  only  from  the  ham- 
let on  the  hillside  above.  Now,  this  dog  was  in  the 
garden  itself,  where  it  roared  aloud  in  paroxysms  of 
fury,  and  I  could  hear  it  leaping  and  straining  on  the 
chain.  I  waited  some  while,  until  the  brute's  fit  of 
passion  had  roared  itself  out.  Then,  with  the  utmost 
precaution,  I  drew  near  again,  and  finally  approached 
the  garden  wall.  So  soon  as  I  had  clapped  my  head 
above  the  level,  however,  the  barking  broke  forth  again 
with  redoubled  energy.  Almost  at  the  same  time,  the 
door  of  the  cottage  opened,  and  Ronald  and  the  major 
appeared  upon  the  threshold  with  a  lantern.  As  they 
so  stood,  they  were  almost  immediately  below  me, 
strongly  illuminated,  and  within  easy  earshot.  The 
major  pacified  the  dog,  who  took  instead  to  low,  uneasy 
growling  intermingled  with  occasional  yelps. 

"  Good  thing  I  brought  Towzer!  "  said  Chevenix. 

"Damn  him,  I  wonder  where  he  is!  "  said  Ronald; 
and  he  moved  the  lantern  up  and  down,  and  turned  the 
night  into  a  shifting  puzzle-work  of  gleam  and  shadow. 
"I  think  I'll  make  a  sally." 

"  I  don't  think  you  will,"  replied  Chevenix.  "  When 
I  agreed  to  come  out  here  and  do  sentry-go,  it  was  on 
one  condition,  Master  Ronald:  don't  you  forget  that! 
Military  discipline,  my  boy!  Our  beat  is  this  path  close 
about  the  house.  Down,  Towzer!  good  boy,  good  boy 
—gently,  then!  "  he  went  on  caressing  his  confounded 
monster. 

354 


EVENTS  OF  TUESDAY:  THE  TOILS  CLOSING 

"  To  think !  The  beggar  may  be  hearing  us  this  min- 
ute! "  cried  Ronald. 

"Nothing  more  probable,"  said  the  major.  "You 
there,  St.  Ives  ?  "  he  added,  in  a  distinct  but  guarded 
voice.  "  I  only  want  to  tell  you,  you  had  better  go 
home.     Mr.  Gilchrist  and  I  take  watch  and  watch." 

The  game  was  up.  "  Beaucoup  deplaisir  !  "  I  replied, 
in  the  same  tones.  "  II  fait  un  peu  froid  pour  veiller  ; 
garde^'Vous  des  engelures  !  " 

I  suppose  it  was  done  in  a  moment  of  ungovernable 
rage;  but  in  spite  of  the  excellent  advice  he  had  given 
to  Ronald  the  moment  before,  Chevenix  slipped  the 
chain,  and  the  dog  sprang,  straight  as  an  arrow,  up  the 
bank.  I  stepped  back,  picked  up  a  stone  of  about 
twelve  pounds  weight,  and  stood  ready.  With  a  bound 
the  beast  landed  on  the  cope-stone  of  the  wall;  and, 
almost  in  the  same  instant,  my  missile  caught  him  fair 
in  the  face.  He  gave  a  stifled  cry,  went  tumbling  back 
where  he  had  come  from,  and  I  could  hear  the  twelve- 
pounder  accompany  him  in  his  fall.  CheVenix,  at  the 
same  moment,  broke  out  in  a  roaring  voice :  "  The  hell- 
hound! If  he's  killed  my  dog!  "  and  I  judged,  upon  all 
grounds,  it  was  as  well  to  be  off. 


m 


CHAPTER  XXX 

EVENTS  OF  WEDNESDAY:    THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CRAMOND 

I  AWOKE  to  much  diffidence,  even  to  a  feeling  that 
might  be  called  the  beginnings  of  panic,  and  lay  for 
hours  in  my  bed  considering  the  situation.  Seek  where 
I  pleased,  there  was  nothing  to  encourage  me  and  plenty 
to  appal.  They  kept  a  close  watch  about  the  cottage; 
they  had  a  beast  of  a  watch-dog— at  least,  unless  I  had 
settled  it;  and  if  I  had,  I  knew  its  bereaved  master 
would  only  watch  the  more  indefatigably  for  the  loss. 
In  the  pardonable  ostentation  of  love  I  had  given  all  the 
money  I  could  spare  to  Flora;  I  had  thought  it  glorious 
that  the  hunted  exile  should  come  down,  like  Jupiter, 
in  a  shower  of  gold,  and  pour  thousands  in  the  lap  of 
the  beloved.  Then  I  had  in  an  hour  of  arrant  folly 
buried  what  remained  to  me  in  a  bank  in  George  Street. 
And  now  I  must  get  back  the  one  or  the  other;  and 
which  ?  and  how  ? 

As  I  tossed  in  my  bed,  I  could  see  three  possible 
courses,  all  extremely  perilous.  First,  Rowley  might 
have  been  mistaken ;  the  bank  might  not  be  watched ; 
it  might  still  be  possible  for  him  to  draw  the  money  on 
the  deposit  receipt.  Second,  I  might  apply  again  to 
Robbie.     Or,  third,  I  might  dare  everything,  go  to  the 

356 


EVENTS  OF  WEDNESDAY:  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CRAMOND 

Assembly  Ball,  and  speak  with  Flora  under  the  eyes  cf 
all  Edinburgho  This  last  alternative,  involving  as  it  did 
the  most  horrid  risks,  and  the  delay  of  forty-eight  hours, 
I  did  but  glance  at  with  an  averted  head,  and  turned 
again  to  the  consideration  of  the  others.  It  was  the 
likeliest  thing  in  the  world  that  Robbie  had  been  warned 
to  have  no  more  to  do  with  me.  The  whole  policy  of 
the  Gilchrists  was  in  the  hands  of  Chevenix;  and  I 
thought  this  was  a  precaution  so  elementary  that  he  was 
certain  to  have  taken  it.  If  he  had  not,  of  course  I  was 
all  right:  Robbie  would  manage  to  communicate  with 
Flora ;  and  by  four  o'clock  I  might  be  on  the  south  road 
and,  I  was  going  to  say,  a  free  man.  Lastly,  I  must 
assure  myself  with  my  own  eyes  whether  the  bank  in 
George  Street  were  beleaguered. 

I  called  to  Rowley  and  questioned  him  tightly  as  to 
the  appearance  of  the  Bow-street  officer. 

"  What  sort  of  looking  man  is  he,  Rowley  ?  "  I  asked, 
as  I  began  to  dress. 

"  Wot  sort  of  a  looking  man  he  is  ?  "  repeated  Row- 
ley. "  Well,  I  don't  very  well  know  wot  you  would 
say,  Mr.  Anne.     He  ain't  a  beauty,  any'ow." 

"  Is  he  tall  ?  " 

"  Tall  ?     Well,  no,  I  shouldn't  say  tall,  Mr.  Anne." 

"  Well,  then,  is  he  short  ?  " 

"  Short  ?  No,  I  don't  think  I  would  say  he  was  what 
you  would  call  short.    No,  not  piticular  short,  sir." 

"Then,  I  suppose,  he  must  be  about  the  middle 
height  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  might  say  it,  sir;  but  not  remarkable  so." 

I  smothered  an  oath. 

"  Is  he  clean-shaved  ?  "  I  tried  him  again. 
357 


ST.  IVES 

"  Clean-shaved  ?  "  he  repeated,  with  the  same  air  of 
anxious  candour. 

"  Good  heaven,  man,  don't  repeat  my  words  like  a 
parrot! "  I  cried.  "Tell  me  what  the  man  was  like:  it 
is  of  the  first  importance  that  I  should  be  able  to  recog- 
nise him." 

"I'm  trying  to,  Mr.  Anne.  But  clean-shaved?  I 
don't  seem  to  rightly  get  hold  of  that  p'int.  Sometimes 
it  might  appear  to  me  like  as  if  he  was;  and  sometimes 
like  as  if  he  wasn't.  No,  it  wouldn't  surprise  me  now 
if  you  was  to  tell  me  he  'ad  a  bit  o'  whisker." 

"  Was  the  man  red-faced  ?  "  I  roared,  dwelling  on 
each  syllable. 

"  I  don't  think  you  need  go  for  to  get  cross  about  it, 
Mr.  Anne!"  said  he.  "I'm  tellin'  you  every  blessed 
thing  I  see !  Red-faced  ?  Well,  no,  not  as  you  would 
remark  upon." 

A  dreadful  calm  fell  upon  me. 

"  Was  he  anywise  pale  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,  it  don't  seem  to  me  as  though  he  were.  But 
I  tell  you  truly,  I  didn't  take  much  heed  to  that." 

"  Did  he  look  like  a  drinking  man  }  " 

"  Well,  no.  If  you  please,  sir,  he  looked  more  like 
an  eating  one." 

"  O,  he  was  stout,  was  he  ?  " 

"No,  sir.  I  couldn't  go  so  far  as  that.  No,  he 
wasn't  not  to  say  stout.     If  anything,  lean  rather." 

1  need  not  go  on  with  the  infuriating  interview.  It 
ended  as  it  began,  except  that  Rowley  was  in  tears,  and 
that  I  had  acquired  one  fact.  The  man  was  drawn  for 
me  as  being  of  any  height  you  like  to  mention,  and  of 
any  degree  of  corpulence  or  leanness;  clean-shaved  or 

358 


EVENTS  OF  WEDNESDAY:  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CRAMOND 

not,  as  the  case  might  be;  the  colour  of  his  hair  Row- 
ley "  could  not  take  it  upon  himself  to  put  a  name  on  " ; 
that  of  his  eyes  he  thought  to  have  been  blue— nay,  it 
was  the  one  point  on  which  he  attained  to  a  kind  of 
tearful  certainty.  "  I'll  take  my  davy  on  it,"  he  assever- 
ated. They  proved  to  have  been  as  black  as  sloes,  very 
little  and  very  near  together.  So  much  for  the  evidence 
of  the  artless!  And  the  fact,  or  rather  the  facts,  ac- 
quired ?  Well,  they  had  to  do  not  with  the  person  but 
with  his  clothing.  The  man  wore  knee-breeches  and 
white  stockings ;  his  coat  was  "  some  kind  of  a  lightish 
colour— or  betwixt  that  and  dark";  and  he  wore  a 
"moleskin  weskit."  As  if  this  were  not  enough,  he 
presently  haled  me  from  my  breakfast  in  a  prodigious 
flutter,  and  showed  me  an  honest  and  rather  venerable 
citizen  passing  in  the  square. 

"That's  hinij  sir,"  he  cried,  "the  very  moral  of  him! 
Well,  this  one  is  better  dressed,  and  p'r'aps  a  trifle 
taller;  and  in  the  face  he  don't  favour  him  noways  at  all, 
sir.  No,  not  when  I  come  to  look  again,  'e  don't  seem 
to  favour  him  noways." 

"  Jackass !  "  said  I,  and  I  think  the  greatest  stickler  for 
manners  will  admit  the  epithet  to  have  been  justified. 

Meanwhile  the  appearance  of  my  landlady  added  a 
great  load  of  anxiety  to  what  I  already  suffered.  It  was 
plain  that  she  had  not  slept;  equally  plain  that  she  had 
wept  copiously.  She  sighed,  she  groaned,  she  drew  in 
her  breath,  she  shook  her  head,  as  she  waited  on  table. 
In  short,  she  seemed  in  so  precarious  a  state,  like  a  pe- 
tard three  times  charged  with  hysteria,  that  I  did  not 
dare  to  address  her;  and  stole  out  of  the  house  on  tip- 
toe, and  actually  ran  down-stairs,  in  the  fear  that  she 

359 


ST.  IVES 

might  call  me  back.  It  was  plain  that  this  degree  o( 
tension  could  not  last  long. 

It  was  my  first  care  to  go  to  George  Street,  which  I 
reached  (by  good  luck)  as  a  boy  was  taking  down  the 
bank  shutters.  A  man  was  conversing  with  him;  he 
had  white  stockings  and  a  moleskin  waistcoat,  and  was 
as  ill-looking  a  rogue  as  you  would  want  to  see  in  a 
day's  journey.  This  seemed  to  agree  fairly  well  with 
Rowley's  signalement :  he  had  declared  emphatically  (if 
you  remember),  and  had  stuck  to  it  besides,  that  the 
companion  of  the  great  Lavender  was  no  beauty. 

Thence  I  made  my  way  to  Mr.  Robbie's,  where  I  rang 
the  bell.  A  servant  answered  the  summons,  and  told 
me  the  lawyer  was  engaged,  as  I  had  half  expected. 

"Wha  shall  I  say  was  callin'?"  she  pursued;  and 
when  I  had  told  her"  Mr.  Ducie,"  "  I  think  this'll  be  for 
you,  then  ?  "  she  added,  and  handed  me  a  letter  from 
the  hall  table.     It  ran : 

"  Dear  Mr.  Ducie  :  My  single  advice  to  you  is  to  leave 
quam  primum  for  the  South. 

"Yours, 

"T.  Robbie." 

That  was  short  and  sweet.  It  emphatically  extin- 
guished hope  in  one  direction.  No  more  was  to  be 
gotten  of  Robbie ;  and  I  wondered,  from  my  heart,  how 
much  had  been  told  him.  Not  too  much,  1  hoped,  for 
I  liked  the  lawyer  who  had  thus  deserted  me,  and  I 
placed  a  certain  reliance  in  the  discretion  of  Chevenix. 
He  would  not  be  merciful;  on  the  other  hand,  I  did 
not  think  he  would  be  cruel  without  cause. 

360 


EVENTS  OF  WEDNESDAY:  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CRAMOND 

It  was  my  next  affair  to  go  back  along  George  Street, 
and  assure  myself  whether  the  man  in  the  moleskin  vest 
was  still  on  guard.  There  was  no  sign  of  him  on  the 
pavement.  Spying  the  door  of  a  common  stair  nearly 
opposite  the  bank,  I  took  it  in  my  head  that  this  would 
be  a  good  point  of  observation,  crossed  the  street, 
entered  with  a  businesslike  air,  and  fell  immediately 
against  the  man  in  the  moleskin  vest.  I  stopped  and 
apologised  to  him ;  he  replied  in  an  unmistakable  Eng- 
lish accent,  thus  putting  the  matter  almost  beyond 
doubt.  After  this  encounter  I  must,  of  course,  ascend 
to  the  top  story,  ring  the  bell  of  a  suite  of  apartments, 
inquire  for  Mr.  Vavasour,  learn  (with  no  great  surprise) 
that  he  did  not  live  there,  come  down  again  and,  again 
politely  saluting  the  man  from  Bow  Street,  make  my 
escape  at  last  into  the  street. 

I  was  now  driven  back  upon  the  Assembly  Ball. 
Robbie  had  failed  me.  The  bank  was  watched;  it 
would  never  do  to  risk  Rowley  in  that  neighbourhood. 
All  I  could  do  was  to  wait  until  the  morrow  evening, 
and  present  myself  at  the  Assembly,  let  it  end  as  it 
might.  But  I  must  say  I  came  to  this  decision  with  a 
good  deal  of  genuine  fright;  and  here  I  came  for  the 
first  time  to  one  of  those  places  where  my  courage 
stuck.  I  do  not  mean  that  my  courage  boggled  and 
made  a  bit  of  a  bother  over  it,  as  it  did  over  the  escape 
from  the  castle ;  I  mean,  stuck,  like  a  stopped  watch  or 
a  dead  man.  Certainly  I  would  go  to  the  ball ;  certainly 
I  must  see  this  morning  about  my  clothes.  That  was 
all  decided.  But  the  most  of  the  shops  were  on  the 
other  side  of  the  valley,  in  the  Old  Town ;  and  it  was 
now  my  strange  discovery  that  I  was  physically  unable 

361 


ST.  IVES 

to  cross  the  North  Bridge!  It  was  as  though  a  preci- 
pice had  stood  between  us,  or  the  deep  sea  had  inter- 
vened.   Nearer  to  the  castle  my  legs  refused  to  bear  me. 

I  told  myself  this  was  mere  superstition;  I  made 
wagers  with  myself— and  gained  them ;  I  went  down 
on  the  esplanade  of  Princes  Street,  walked  and  stood 
there,  alone  and  conspicuous,  looking  across  the  garden 
at  the  old  grey  bastions  of  the  fortress,  where  all  these 
troubles  had  begun.  I  cocked  my  hat,  set  my  hand  on 
my  hip,  and  swaggered  on  the  pavement,  confronting 
detection.  And  I  found  I  could  do  all  this  with  a  sense 
of  exhilaration  that  was  not  unpleasing,  and  with  a  cer- 
tain crdnerie  of  manner  that  raised  me  in  my  own  es- 
teem. And  yet  there  was  one  thing  I  could  not  bring 
my  mind  to  face  up  to,  or  my  limbs  to  execute;  and 
that  was  to  cross  the  valley  into  the  Old  Town.  It 
seemed  to  me  I  must  be  arrested  immediately  if  I  had 
done  so;  I  must  go  straight  into  the  twilight  of  a  prison 
cell,  and  pass  straight  thence  to  the  gross  and  final  em- 
braces of  the  nightcap  and  the  halter.  And  yet  it  was 
from  no  reasoned  fear  of  the  consequences  that  I  could 
not  go.  I  was  unable.  My  horse  balked,  and  there  was 
an  end! 

My  nerve  was  gone :  here  was  a  discovery  for  a  man 
in  such  imminent  peril,  set  down  to  so  desperate  a 
game,  which  I  could  only  hope  to  win  by  continual  luck 
and  unflagging  effrontery!  The  strain  had  been  too 
long  continued,  and  my  nerve  was  gone.  I  fell  into 
what  they  call  panic  fear,  as  I  have  seen  soldiers  do  on 
the  alarm  of  a  night  attack,  and  turned  out  of  Princes 
Street  at  random  as  though  the  devil  were  at  my  heels. 
In  St.  Andrew's  Square,  I  remember  vaguely  hearing 

362 


EVENTS  OF  WEDNESDAY:  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CRAMOND 

some  one  call  out.  I  paid  no  heed,  but  pressed  on 
blindly.  A  moment  after,  a  hand  fell  heavily  on  my 
shoulder,  and  I  thought  I  had  fainted.  Certainly  the 
world  went  black  about  me  for  some  seconds ;  and  when 
that  spasm  passed  I  found  myself  standing  face  to  face 
with  the  "cheerful  extravagant,"  in  what  sort  of  disar- 
ray I  really  dare  not  imagine,  dead  white  at  least,  shaking 
like  an  aspen,  and  mowing  at  the  man  with  speechless 
lips.  And  this  was  the  soldier  of  Napoleon,  and  the 
gentleman  who  intended  going  next  night  to  an  As- 
sembly Ball!  I  am  the  more  particular  in  telling  of  my 
breakdown,  because  it  was  my  only  experience  of  the 
sort;  and  it  is  a  good  tale  for  officers.  I  will  allow  no 
man  to  call  me  coward;  I  have  made  my  proofs;  few 
men  more.  And  yet  I  (come  of  the  best  blood  in  France 
and  inured  to  danger  from  a  child)  did,  for  some  ten  or 
twenty  minutes,  make  this  hideous  exhibition  of  my- 
self on  the  streets  of  the  New  Town  of  Edinburgh. 

With  my  first  available  breath  I  begged  his  pardon. 
I  was  of  an  extremely  nervous  disposition,  recently  in- 
creased by  late  hours;  I  could  not  bear  the  slightest 
start. 

He  seemed  much  concerned.  "You  must  be  in  a 
devil  of  a  state !  "  said  he ;  "  though  of  course  it  was 
my  fault— damnably  silly,  vulgar  sort  of  thing  to  do! 
A  thousand  apologies!  But  you  really  must  be  run 
down;  you  should  consult  a  medico.  My  dear  sir,  a 
hair  of  the  dog  that  bit  you  is  clearly  indicated.  A 
touch  of  Blue  Ruin,  now.^  Or,  come:  it's  early,  but 
is  man  the  slave  of  hours  ?  what  do  you  say  to  a  chop 
and  a  bottle  in  Dumbreck's  Hotel  ?  " 

I  refused  all  false  comfort ;  but  when  he  went  on  to 
363 


ST.  IVES 

remind  me  that  this  was  the  day  when  the  University 
of  Cramond  met;  and  to  propose  a  five-mile  walk  into 
the  country  and  a  dinner  in  the  company  of  young  asses 
like  himself,  I  began  to  think  otherwise.  1  had  to  wait 
until  to-morrow  evening,  at  any  rate;  this  might  serve 
as  well  as  anything  else  to  bridge  the  dreary  hours. 
The  country  was  the  very  place  for  me;  and  walking 
is  an  excellent  sedative  for  the  nerves.  Remembering 
poor  Rowley,  feigning  a  cold  in  our  lodgings  and  im- 
mediately under  the  guns  of  the  formidable  and  now 
doubtful  Bethiah,  1  asked  if  I  might  bring  my  servant 
"  Poor  devil!  it  is  dull  for  him,"  I  explained. 

"The  merciful  man  is  merciful  to  his  ass,"  observed 
my  sententious  friend.     "  Bring  him  by  all  means  I 

'The  harp,  his  sole  remaining  joy, 
Was  carried  by  an  orphan  boy; ' 

and  I  have  no  doubt  the  orphan  boy  can  get  some  cold 
victuals  in  the  kitchen,  while  the  Senatus  dines." 

Accordingly,  being  now  quite  recovered  from  my  un- 
manly condition,  except  that  nothing  could  yet  induce 
me  to  cross  the  North  Bridge,  I  arranged  for  my  ball 
dress  at  a  shop  in  Leith  Street,  where  I  was  not  served 
ill,  cut  out  Rowley  from  his  seclusion,  and  was  ready 
along  with  him  at  the  try  sting-place,  the  corner  of  Duke 
Street  and  York  Place,  by  a  little  after  two.  The  Uni- 
versity was  represented  in  force :  eleven  persons,  includ- 
ing ourselves,  Byfield  the  aeronaut,  and  the  tall  lad, 
Forbes,  whom  I  had  met  on  the  Sunday  morning,  be- 
dewed with  tallow,  at  the  "Hunters*  Rest."  I  was 
introduced ;  and  we  set  off  by  way  of  Newhaven  and 
the  sea  beach ;  at  first  through  pleasant  countjy  roads, 

364 


EVENTS  OF  WEDNESDAY:  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CRAMOND 

and  afterwards  along  a  succession  of  bays  of  a  fairy-like 
prettiness,  to  our  destination— Cramond  on  the  Almond 
—a  little  hamlet  on  a  little  river,  embowered  in  woods, 
and  looking  forth  over  a  great  flat  of  quicksand  to 
where  a  little  islet  stood  planted  in  the  sea.  It  was 
miniature  scenery,  but  charming  of  its  kind.  The  air 
of  this  good  February  afternoon  was  bracing,  but  not 
cold.  All  the  way  my  companions  were  skylarking, 
jesting,  and  making  puns,  and  I  felt  as  if  a  load  had 
been  taken  off  my  lungs  and  spirits,  and  skylarked  with 
the  best  of  them. 

Byfield  I  observed,  because  I  had  heard  of  him  before, 
and  seen  his  advertisements,  not  at  all  because  I  was 
disposed  to  feel  interest  in  the  man.  He  was  dark  and 
bilious  and  very  silent;  frigid  in  his  manners,  but  burn- 
ing internally  with  a  great  fire  of  excitement;  and  he 
was  so  good  as  to  bestow  a  good  deal  of  his  company 
and  conversation  (such  as  it  was)  upon  myself,  who 
was  not  in  the  least  grateful.  If  I  had  known  how  I 
was  to  be  connected  with  him  in  the  immediate  future, 
I  might  have  taken  more  pains. 

In  the  hamlet  of  Cramond  there  is  a  hostelry  of  no 
very  promising  appearance,  and  here  a  room  had  been 
prepared  for  us,  and  we  sat  down  to  table. 

"  Here  you  will  find  no  guttling  or  gormandising,  no 
turtle  or  nightingales'  tongues,"  said  the  extravagant, 
whose  name,  by  the  way,  was  Dalmahoy.  "The  de- 
vice, sir,  of  the  University  of  Cramond  is  Plain  Living 
and  High  Drinking." 

Grace  was  said  by  the  Professor  of  Divinity,  in  a 
macaronic  Latin,  which  I  could  by  no  means  follow, 
only  I  could  hear  it  rhymed,  and  I  guessed  it  to  be  more 


ST.  IVES 

witty  than  reverent.  After  which  the  Senatus  Academi- 
cus  sat  down  to  rough  plenty  in  the  shape  of  rizzar'd 
haddocks  and  mustard,  a  sheep's  head,  a  haggis,  and 
other  delicacies  of  Scotland.  The  dinner  was  washed 
down  with  brown  stout  in  bottle,  and  as  soon  as  the 
cloth  was  removed,  glasses,  boiling  water,  sugar,  and 
whiskey  were  set  out  for  the  manufacture  of  toddy.  I 
played  a  good  knife  and  fork,  did  not  shun  the  bowl, 
and  took  part,  so  far  as  I  was  able,  in  the  continual  fire 
of  pleasantry  with  which  the  meal  was  seasoned. 
Greatly  daring,  I  ventured,  before  all  these  Scotsmen, 
to  tell  Sim's  tale  of  Tweedie's  dog;  and  I  was  held  to 
have  done  such  extraordinary  justice  to  the  dialect,  "  for 
a  Southron,"  that  I  was  immediately  voted  into  the 
Chair  of  Scots,  and  became,  from  that  moment,  a  full 
member  of  the  University  of  Cramond.  A  little  after, 
I  found  myself  entertaining  them  with  a  song;  and  a 
little  after— perhaps  a  little  in  consequence— it  occurred 
to  me  that  1  had  had  enough,  and  would  be  very  well 
inspired  to  take  French  leave.  It  was  not  difficult  to 
manage,  for  it  was  nobody's  business  to  observe  my 
movements,  and  conviviality  had  banished  suspicion. 

I  got  easily  forth  of  the  chamber,  which  reverberated 
with  the  voices  of  these  merry  and  learned  gentlemen, 
and  breathed  a  long  breath.  I  had  passed  an  agreeable 
afternoon  and  evening,  and  I  had  apparently  escaped 
scot-free.  Alas !  when  I  looked  into  the  kitchen,  there 
was  my  monkey,  drunk  as  a  lord,  toppling  on  the  edge 
of  the  dresser,  and  performing  on  the  flageolet  to  an 
audience  of  the  house  lasses  and  some  neighbouring 
ploughmen. 

1  routed  him  promptly  from  his  perch,  stuck  his  hat 
^66 


EVENTS  OF  WEDNESDAY:  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CRAMOND 

on,  put  his  instrument  in  his  pocket,  and  set  off  with 
him  for  Edinburgh.  His  limbs  were  of  paper,  his  mind 
quite  in  abeyance;  I  must  uphold  and  guide  him,  pre- 
vent  his  frantic  dives,  and  set  him  continually  on  his 
legs  again.  At  first  he  sang  wildly,  with  occasional 
outbursts  of  causeless  laughter.  Gradually  an  inarticu- 
late melancholy  succeeded;  he  wept  gently  at  times; 
would  stop  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  say  firmly  "  No, 
no,  no,"  and  then  fall  on  his  back:  or  else  address  me 
solemnly  as  "M'lord,"  and  fall  on  his  face  by  way  of 
variety.  I  am  afraid  I  was  not  always  so  gentle  with 
the  little  pig  as  I  might  have  been,  but  really  the  posi- 
tion was  unbearable.  We  made  no  headway  at  all,  and 
I  suppose  we  were  scarce  gotten  a  mile  away  from 
Cramond,  when  the  whole  Senatus  Academicus  was 
heard  hailing,  and  doubling  the  pace  to  overtake  us. 

Some  of  them  were  fairly  presentable ;  and  they  were 
all  Christian  martyrs  compared  to  Rowley:  but  they 
were  in  a  frolicsome  and  rollicking  humour  that  prom- 
ised danger  as  we  approached  the  town.  They  sang 
songs,  they  ran  races,  they  fenced  with  their  walking- 
sticks  and  umbrellas ;  and,  in  spite  of  this  violent  exer- 
cise, the  fun  grew  only  the  more  extravagant  with  the 
miles  they  traversed.  Their  drunkenness  was  deep- 
seated  and  permanent,  like  fire  in  a  peat;  or  rather— to 
be  quite  just  to  them— it  was  not  so  much  to  be  called 
drunkenness  at  all,  as  the  effect  of  youth  and  high 
spirits— a  fine  night,  and  the  night  young,  a  good  road 
under  foot,  and  the  world  before  you ! 

I  had  left  them  once  somewhat  unceremoniously;  I 
could  not  attempt  it  a  second  time;  and,  burthened  as  I 
was  with  Mr.  Rowley,  I  was  really  glad  of  assistance. 

367 


ST.  IVES 

But  I  saw  the  lamps  of  Edinburgh  draw  near  on  their 
hilltop  with  a  good  deal  of  uneasiness,  which  increased, 
after  we  had  entered  the  lighted  streets,  to  positive 
alarm.  All  the  passers-by  were  addressed,  some  of  them 
by  name.  A  worthy  man  was  stopped  by  Forbes. 
"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  in  the  name  of  the  Senatus  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Cramond,  I  confer  upon  you  the  degree  of 
LL.D.,"  and  with  the  words  he  bonneted  him.  Conceive 
the  predicament  of  St.  Ives,  committed  to  the  society  of 
these  outrageous  youths,  in  a  town  where  the  police  and 
his  cousin  were  both  looking  for  him  I  So  far,  we  had 
pursued  our  way  unmolested,  although  raising  a  clam- 
our fit  to  wake  the  dead ;  but  at  last,  in  Abercromby 
Place,  I  believe— at  least  it  was  a  crescent  of  highly  re- 
spectable houses  fronting  on  a  garden— Byfield  and  I, 
having  fallen  somewhat  in  the  rear  with  Rowley,  came 
to  a  simultaneous  halt.  Our  ruffians  were  beginning  to 
wrench  off  bells  and  door-plates ! 

"  O,  I  say!  "  says  Byfield,  *'  this  is  too  much  of  a  good 
thing!  Confound  it,  I'm  a  respectable  man— a  public 
character,  by  George!  I  can't  afford  to  get  taken  up  by 
the  police." 

"  My  own  case  exactly,"  said  I.     ' 

"  Here,  let's  bilk  them,"  said  he. 

And  we  turned  back  and  took  our  way  down  hill 
again. 

It  was  none  too  soon :  voices  and  alarm-bells  sounded ; 
watchmen  here  and  there  began  to  spring  their  rattles; 
it  was  plain  the  University  of  Cramond  would  soon  be 
at  blows  with  the  police  of  Edinburgh !  Byfield  and  I, 
running  the  semi-inanimate  Rowley  before  us,  made 

)68 


EVENTS  OF  WEDNESDAY:  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CRAMOND 

good  despatch,  and  did  not  stop  till  we  were  several 
streets  away,  and  the  hubbub  was  already  softened  by 
distance. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  he,  "  we  are  well  out  of  that!  Did 
ever  any  one  see  such  a  pack  of  young  barbarians  ?  " 

"We  are  properly  punished,  Mr.  Byfield;  we  had  no 
business  there,"  I  replied. 

"No,  indeed,  sir,  you  may  well  say  that!  Outra- 
geous 1  And  my  ascension  announced  for  Friday,  you 
know!"  cried  the  aeronaut.  "A  pretty  scandal! 
Byfield  the  aeronaut  at  the  police  court!  Tut-tut! 
Will  you  be  able  to  get  your  rascal  home,  sir  ?  Allow 
me  to  offer  you  my  card.  I  am  staying  at  Walker  and 
Poole's  Hotel,  sir,  where  I  should  be  pleased  to  see 
you." 

"The  pleasure  would  be  mutual,  sir,"  said  I;  but  I 
must  say  my  heart  was  not  in  my  words,  and  as  I 
watched  Mr.  Byfield  departing,  I  desired  nothing  less 
than  to  pursue  the  acquaintance. 

One  more  ordeal  remained  for  me  to  pass.  I  carried 
my  senseless  load  up-stairs  to  our  lodging,  and  was  ad- 
mitted by  the  landlady  in  a  tall  white  nightcap  and  with 
an  expression  singularly  grim.  She  lighted  us  into  the 
sitting-room;  where,  when  I  had  seated  Rowley  in  a 
chair,  she  dropped  me  a  cast-iron  curtsey.  I  smelt 
gunpowder  on  the  woman.  Her  voice  tottered  with 
emotion. 

"I  give  ye  nottice,  Mr.  Ducie,"  said  she.  "Dacent 
folks'  houses  ..." 

And  at  that  apparently  temper  cut  off  her  utterance, 
and  she  took  herself  off  without  more  words. 

569 


ST.  IVES 

I  looked  about  me  at  the  room,  the  goggling  Rowley, 
the  extinguished  fire;  my  mind  reviewed  the  laughable 
incidents  of  the  day  and  night;  and  I  laughed  out  loud 
to  myself— lonely  and  cheerless  laughter! 

[/4t  this  point  the  /tutbor's  MS.  breaks  off:  what  folloxos  is  the  teork 
o/Mr.  a.  T.  Quiller-Couch.J 


no 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY:    THE   ASSEMBLY   BALL 

But  I  awoke  to  the  chill  reminder  of  dawn,  and  found 
myself  no  master  even  of  cheerless  mirth.  I  had  supped 
with  the  Senatus  Academicus  of  Cramond :  so  much  my 
head  informed  me.  It  was  Thursday,  the  day  of  the 
Assembly  Ball.  But  the  ball  was  fixed  by  the  card  for 
8  p.  M.,  and  I  had,  therefore,  twelve  mortal  hours  to  wear 
through  as  best  I  could.  Doubtless  it  was  this  reflection 
which  prompted  me  to  leap  out  of  bed  instanter  and  ring 
for  Mr.  Rowley  and  my  shaving-water. 

Mr.  Rowley,  it  appeared,  was  in  no  such  hurry.  I 
tugged  a  second  time  at  the  bell-rope.  A  groan  an- 
swered me :  and  there  in  the  doorway  stood,  or  rather 
titubated,  my  paragon  of  body-servants.  He  was  col- 
larless,  unkempt;  his  face  a  tinted  map  of  shame  and 
bodily  disorder.  His  hand  shook  on  the  hot-water  can, 
and  spilled  its  contents  into  his  shoes.  I  opened  on  him 
with  a  tirade,  but  had  no  heart  to  continue.  The  fault, 
after  all,  was  mine :  and  it  argued  something  like  hero- 
ism in  the  lad  that  he  had  fought  his  nausea  down  and 
come  up  to  time. 

"  But  not  smiling,"  I  assured  him. 
37> 


ST.  IVES 

"  0,  please,  Mr.  Anne.  Go  on,  sir;  I  deserve  it  But 
I'll  never  do  it  again,  strike  me  sky-blue  scarlet!  " 

"  In  so  far  as  that  differed  from  your  present  colour- 
ing, I  believe,"  said  I,  "it  would  be  an  improvement." 

"Never  again,  Mr.  Anne." 

"  Certainly  not,  Rowley.  Even  to  good  men  this  may 
happen  once:  beyond  that,  carelessness  shades  off  into 
depravity." 

"Yessir." 

"  You  gave  a  good  deal  of  trouble  last  night  I  have 
yet  to  meet  Mrs.  McRankine." 

"As  for  that,  Mr.  Anne,"  said  he,  with  an  incongru- 
ous twinkle  in  his  bloodshot  eye,  "  she've  been  up  with 
a  tray :  dry  toast  and  a  pot  of  tea.  The  old  gal's  bark 
is  worse  than  her  bite,  sir,  begging  your  pardon,  and 
meaning  as  she's  a  decent  one,  she  is." 

"  I  was  fearing  that  might  be  just  the  trouble,"  I  an- 
swered. 

One  thing  was  certain.  Rowley,  that  morning,  should 
not  be  entrusted  with  a  razor  and  the  handling  of  my 
chin.  I  sent  him  back  to  his  bed,  with  orders  not  to 
rise  from  it  without  permission;  and  went  about  my 
toilette  deliberately.  In  spite  of  the  lad,  I  did  not  enjoy 
the  prospect  of  Mrs.  McRankine. 

I  enjoyed  it  so  little,  indeed,  that  I  fell  to  poking  the 
sitting-room  fire  when  she  entered  with  the  Mercury ; 
and  read  the  Mercury  assiduously  while  she  brought  in 
breakfast  She  set  down  the  tray  with  a  slam  and 
stood  beside  it,  her  hands  on  her  hips,  her  whole  atti- 
tude breathing  challenge. 

"Well,  Mrs.  McRankine?"  I  began,  upturning  a 
hypocritical  eye  from  the  newspaper. 

372 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY;  THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

"'Well,' is  it?    Nhml" 

I  lifted  the  breakfast  cover,  and  saw  before  me  a 
damnatory  red  herring. 

"Rowley  was  very  foolish  last  night,"  I  remarked, 
with  a  discriminating  stress  on  the  name. 

"  *  The  ass  knoweth  his  master's  crib/  "  She  pointed 
to  the  herring.  "  It's  all  ye'll  get,  Mr.— Ducie,  if  that's 
your  name." 

"  Madam  "—I  held  out  the  fish  at  the  end  of  my  fork 
—"you  drag  it  across  the  track  of  an  apology."  I  set 
it  back  on  the  dish  and  replaced  the  cover.  "  It  is  clear 
that  you  wish  us  gone.  Well  and  good:  grant  Row- 
ley a  day  for  recovery,  and  to-morrow  you  shall  be  quit 
of  us."    I  reached  for  my  hat. 

"  Whaur  are  ye  gaun  ?  " 

"To  seek  other  lodgings." 

"I'll  no  say—  Man,  man!  have  a  care  I  And  me 
beat  to  close  an  eye  the  nicht!  "  She  dropped  into  a 
chair.  "Nay,  Mr.  Ducie,  ye  daurnal  Think  o*  that 
innocent  Iamb!  " 

"That  little  pig." 

"  He's  ower  young  to  die,"  sobbed  my  landlady. 

"  In  the  abstract  I  agree  with  you :  but  I  am  not  aware 
that  Rowley's  death  is  required.  Say  rather  that  he  is 
ower  young  to  turn  King's  evidence."  I  stepped  back 
from  the  door.  "Mrs.  McRankine,"  I  said,  "I  believe 
you  to  be  soft-hearted.  I  know  you  to  be  curious.  You 
will  be  pleased  to  sit  perfectly  still  and  listen  to  me." 

And,  resuming  my  seat,  I  leaned  across  the  corner  of 
the  table  and  put  my  case  before  her  without  suppres- 
sion or  extenuation.  Her  breathing  tightened  over  my 
sketch  of  the  duel  with  Goguelat;    and  again  more 

373 


ST.  IVES 

sharply  as  I  told  of  my  descent  of  the  rock.  Of  Alain 
she  said,  "I  ken  his  sort,"  and  of  Flora  twice,  "I'm 
wonderin'  will  I  have  seen  her  ?  "  For  the  rest,  she 
heard  me  out  in  silence,  and  rose  and  walked  to  the  door 
without  a  word.  There  she  turned.  "  It's  a  verra 
queer  tale.  If  McRankine  had  told  me  the  like,  I'd 
havegien  him  the  lie  to  his  face." 

Two  minutes  later  I  heard  the  vials  of  her  speech  un- 
sealed above  stairs,  with  detonations  that  shook  the 
house.  I  had  touched  off  my  rocket,  and  the  stick  de- 
scended—on the  prostrate  Rowley. 

And  now  I  must  face  the  inert  hours.  I  sat  down, 
and  read  my  way  through  the  Mercury.  "  The  escaped 
French  soldier,  Champdivers,  who  is  wanted  in  connec- 
tion with  the  recent  horrid  murder  at  the  castle,  remains 
at  large—"  the  rest  but  repeated  the  advertisement  of 
Tuesday.  "At  large!"  I  set  down  the  paper,  and 
turned  to  my  landlady's  library.  It  consisted  of  Der- 
ham's  Physico-  and  Astro-Theology,  The  Scripture  Doc- 
trine of  Original  Sin,  by  one  Taylor,  D.  D.,  The  Ready 
Reckoner  or  Tradesman' s  Sure  Guide,  and  The  Path  to 
the  Pit  delineated,  with  Twelve  Engravings  on  Copper- 
plate. For  distraction  I  fell  to  pacing  the  room,  and 
rehearsing  those  remembered  tags  of  Latin  verse  con- 
cerning which  M.  de  Culemberg  had  long  ago  assured 
me,  "  My  son,  we  know  not  when,  but  some  day  they 
will  come  back  to  you  with  solace  if  not  with  charm. " 
Good  man !  My  feet  trod  the  carpet  to  Horace's  Alcaics. 
Firtus  recludens  immeritis  mori  Ccelum—Wm,  h'm— 
raro— 

raro  antecedentetn  scehstum 

deseruit  pede  Pxna  claudo. 

374 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY;  THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

I  paused  by  the  window.  In  this  there  was  no  indis- 
cretion ;  for  a  cold  drizzle  washed  the  panes,  and  the 
warmth  of  the  apartment  dimmed  their  inner  surface. 

"  Pede  Poena  claudOy"  my  finger  traced  the  words  on 
the  damp  glass. 

A  sudden  clamour  of  the  street-door  bell  sent  me 
skipping  back  to  the  fireplace  with  my  heart  in  my 
mouth.  Interminable  minutes  followed,  and  at  length 
Mrs.  McRankine  entered  with  my  ball  suit  from  the 
tailor's.  I  carried  it  into  the  next  room,  and  disposed 
it  on  the  bed— olive-green  coat  with  gilt  buttons  and 
facings  of  watered  silk,  olive-green  pantaloons,  white 
waistcoat  sprigged  with  blue  and  green  forget-me-nots. 
The  survey  carried  me  on  to  midday  and  the  midday 
meal. 

The  ministry  of  meal-time  is  twice  blest:  for  prison- 
ers and  men  without  appetite  it  punctuates  and  makes 
time  of  eternity.  I  dawdled  over  my  chop  and  pint  of 
brown  stout  until  Mrs.  McRankine,  after  twice  entering 
to  clear  away,  with  the  face  of  a  Cumaean  sibyl,  so  far 
relaxed  the  tension  of  unnatural  calm  as  to  inquire  if  I 
meant  to  be  all  night  about  it. 

The  afternoon  wore  into  dusk;  and  with  dusk  she  re- 
appeared with  a  tea-tray.     At  six  I  retired  to  dress. 

Behold  me  now  issuing  from  my  chamber,  conscious 
of  a  well-fitting  coat  and  a  shapely  pair  of  legs:  the 
dignified  simplicity  of  my  tournure  (simplicity  so  proper 
to  the  scion  of  an  exiled  house)  relieved  by  a  dandiacal 
hint  of  shirt-frill,  and  corrected  into  tenderness  by  the 
virgin  waistcoat  sprigged  with  forget-me-nots  (for  con- 
stancy), and  buttoned  with  pink  coral  (for  hope). 
Satisfied  of  the  effect,  I  sought  the  apartment  of  Mr. 

375 


ST.  IVES 

Rowley  of  the  Rueful  Countenance,  and  found  him  less 
yellow,  but  still  contrite,  and  listening  to  Mrs.  McRan- 
kine,  who  sat  with  open  book  by  his  bedside,  and 
plied  him  with  pertinent  dehortations  from  the  Book  of 
Proverbs. 

He  brightened. 

"  My  heye,  Mr.  Hanne,  if  that  ain't  up  to  the  knocker  !  " 

Mrs.  McRankine  closed  the  book,  and  conned  me 
with  austerer  approval. 

"  Ye  carry  it  well,  I  will  say." 

"It  fits,  I  think." 

I  turned  myself  complacently  about. 

"The  drink,  I  am  meaning.     I  kenned  McRankine." 

"  Shall  we  talk  of  business,  madam  ?  In  the  first 
place,  the  quittance  for  our  board  and  lodging." 

**  I  mak'  it  out  on  Saturdays.'' 

"  Do  so ;  and  deduct  it  out  of  this. "  I  handed  twenty- 
five  of  my  guineas  into  her  keeping:  this  left  me  with 
five  and  a  crown-piece  in  my  pocket.  "  The  balance, 
while  it  lasts,  will  serve  for  Rowley's  keep  and  current 
expenses.  Before  long  I  hope  he  may  lift  the  money 
which  lies  in  the  bank  at  his  service,  as  he  knows." 

"  But  you'll  come  back,  Mr.  Anne  ?  "  cried  the  lad. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  a  toss-up,  my  boy.  Discipline,  re- 
member! "—for  he  was  preparing  to  leap  out  of  bed 
there  and  then—"  You  can  serve  me  better  in  Edinburgh. 
All  you  have  to  do  is  to  wait  for  a  clear  coast,  and  seek 
and  present  yourself  in  private  before  Mr.  T.  Robbie  of 
Castle  Street,  or  Miss  Flora  Gilchrist  of  Swanston  Cot- 
tage. From  either  or  both  of  these  you  will  take  your 
instructions.     Here  are  the  addresses." 

"  If  that's  a'  your  need  for  the  lad,"  said  Mrs.  McRan- 
376 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY:  THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

kine,  "  he'll  be  eating  his  head  off:  no  to  say  drinking." 
Rowley  winced.     "  I'll  tak'  him  on  mysel'." 

"  My  dear  woman—" 

"  He'll  be  a  brand  frae  the  burnin' :  and  he'll  do  to 
clean  the  knives." 

She  would  hear  no  denial.  I  committed  the  lad  to 
her  in  this  double  capacity;  and  equipped  with  a  pair  of 
goloshes  from  the  wardrobe  of  the  late  McRankine, 
sallied  forth  upon  the  rain-swept  street. 

The  card  of  admission  directed  me  to  Buccleuch  Place, 
a  little  off  George  Square;  and  here  I  found  a  wet  rag 
of  a  crowd  gathered  about  a  couple  of  lanterns  and  a 
striped  awning.  Beneath  the  awning  a  panel  of  light 
fell  on  the  plashy  pavement.  Already  the  guests  were 
arriving.  I  whipped  in  briskly,  presented  my  card,  and 
passed  up  a  staircase  decorated  with  flags,  evergreens, 
and  national  emblems.  A  venerable  flunkey  waited  for 
me  at  the  summit.  "Cloak  lobby  to  the  left,  sir."  I 
obeyed,  and  exchanged  my  overcoat  and  goloshes  for 
a  circular  metal  ticket.  "  What  name,  sir  ?  "  he  purred 
over  my  card,  as  I  lingered  in  the  vestibule  for  a  mo- 
ment to  scan  the  ball-room  and  my  field  of  action :  then, 
having  cleared  his  throat,  bawled  suddenly,  "Mr. 
Duciel  " 

It  might  have  been  a  stage  direction.  "A  tucket 
sounds.  Enter  the  Vicomtey  disguised  J'  To  tell  the 
truth,  this  entry  was  a  daunting  business.  A  dance 
had  just  come  to  an  end ;  and  the  musicians  in  the  gal- 
lery had  fallen  to  tuning  their  violins.  The  chairs  ar- 
rayed along  the  walls  were  thinly  occupied,  and  as  yet 
the  social  temperature  scarce  rose  to  thawing-point.  In 
fact,  the  second-rate  people  had  arrived,  and  from  the 

377 


ST.  IVES 

far  end  of  the  room  were  nervously  watching  the  door 
for  notables.  Consequently  my  entrance  drew  a  dis- 
quieting fire  of  observation.  The  mirrors,  reflectors, 
and  girandoles  had  eyes  for  me;  and  as  I  advanced  up 
the  perspective  of  waxed  floor,  the  very  boards  winked 
detection.  A  little  Master  of  Ceremonies,  as  round  as 
the  rosette  on  his  lapel,  detached  himself  from  the  near- 
est group,  and  approached  with  something  of  a  skater's 
motion  and  an  insinuating  smile. 

"  Mr.-a-Ducie,  if  I  heard  aright  ?  A  stranger,  I  be- 
lieve, to  our  northern  capital,  and  I  hope  a  dancer  ?  " 
I  bowed.  "  Grant  me  the  pleasure,  Mr.  Ducie,  of  find- 
ing you  a  partner." 

"If,"  said  I,  "you  would  present  me  to  the  young 
lady  yonder,  beneath  the  musician's  gallery—"  For  I 
recognised  Master  Ronald's  flame,  the  girl  in  pink  of 
Mr.  Robbie's  party,  to-night  gowned  in  apple-green. 

"  Miss  McBean— Miss  Camilla  McBean  ?  With  plea- 
sure. Great  discrimination  you  show,  sir.  Be  so  good 
as  to  follow  me." 

I  was  led  forward  and  presented.  Miss  McBean  re- 
sponded to  my  bow  with  great  play  of  shoulders;  and 
in  turn  presented  me  to  her  mother,  a  moustachioed  lady 
in  stiff  black  silk,  surmounted  with  a  black  cap  and 
coquelicot  trimmings. 

''Any  friend  of  Mr.  Robbie's,  I'm  sure,"  murmured 
Mrs.  McBean,  affably  inclining.  "  Look,  Camilla  dear 
—Sir  William  and  Lady  Frazer— in  laylock  sarsnet— how 
well  that  diamond  bandeau  becomes  her!  They  are 
early  to-night.     As  I  was  saying,  Mr. " 

"Ducie." 

"  To  be  sure.  As  I  was  saying,  any  friend  of  Mr. 
378 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY:   THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

Robbie— one  of  my  oldest  acquaintance.  If  you  can 
manage  now  to  break  him  of  his  bachelor  habits !  You 
are  making  a  long  stay  in  Edinburgh  ?  " 

"  I  fear,  madam,  that  I  must  leave  it  to-morrow." 

''  You  have  seen  all  our  lions,  I  suppose  ?  The  castle, 
now?  Ah,  the  attractions  of  London!— now  don't 
shake  your  head,  Mr.  Ducie.  I  hope  I  know  a  Lon- 
doner when  I  see  one.  And  yet  'twould  surprise  you 
how  fast  we  are  advancing  in  Edinburgh.  Camilla  dear, 
that  Miss  Scrymgeour  has  edged  her  China  crape  with 
the  very  ribbon  trimmings— black  satin  with  pearl  edge 
—we  saw  in  that  new  shop  in  Princes  Street  yesterday: 
sixpenny  width  at  the  bottom,  and  three-three-farthings 
round  the  bodice.  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me,  Mr.  Ducie, 
if  it's  really  true  that  ribbon  trimmings  are  the  height  in 
London  and  Bath  this  year  ?  " 

But  the  band  struck  up,  and  1  swept  the  unresisting 
Camilla  towards  the  set.  After  the  dance,  the  ladies 
(who  were  kind  enough  to  compliment  me  on  my  per- 
formance) suffered  themselves  to  be  led  to  the  tea-room. 
By  this  time  the  arrivals  were  following  each  other  thick 
and  fast;  and,  standing  by  the  tea-table,  I  heard  name 
after  name  vociferated  at  the  ball-room  door,  but  never 
the  name  my  nerves  were  on  the  strain  to  echo.  Surely 
Flora  would  come:  surely  none  of  her  guardians,  natu- 
ral or  officious,  would  expect  to  find  me  at  the  ball.  But 
the  minutes  passed,  and  I  must  convey  Mrs.  and  Miss 
McBean  back  to  their  seats  beneath  the  gallery. 

"Miss  Gilchrist— Miss  Flora  Gilchrist— Mr.  Ronald 
Gilchrist!     Mr.  Robbie!     Major  Arthur  Chevenix!  " 

The  first  name  plumped  like  a  shot  across  my  bows, 
and  brought  me  up  standing— for  a  second  only.     Be- 

379 


ST.  IVES 

fore  the  catalogue  was  out,  I  had  dropped  the  McBeans 
at  their  moorings,  and  was  heading  down  on  my  ene- 
mies' line  of  battle.  Their  faces  were  a  picture.  Flora's 
cheek  flushed,  and  her  lips  parted  in  the  prettiest  cry  of 
wonder.  Mr.  Robbie  took  snuff.  Ronald  went  red  in 
the  face,  and  Major  Chevenix  white.  The  intrepid  Miss 
Gilchrist  turned  not  a  hair. 

**  What  will  be  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  she  demanded, 
drawing  to  a  stand,  and  surveying  me  through  her  gold- 
rimmed  eye-glass. 

"Madam,"  said  I,  with  a  glance  at  Chevenix,  "you 
may  call  it  a  cutting-out  expedition." 

"Miss  Gilchrist,"  he  began,  "you  will  surely  not—" 

But  I  was  too  quick  for  him. 

"  Madam,  since  when  has  the  gallant  major  superseded 
Mr.  Robbie  as  your  family  adviser  ?  " 

"H'mph!  "  said  Miss  Gilchrist;  which  in  itself  was 
not  reassuring.     But  she  turned  to  the  lawyer. 

"  My  dear  lady,"  he  answered  her  look,  "  this  very  im- 
prudent young  man  seems  to  have  burnt  his  boats,  and 
no  doubt  recks  very  little  if,  in  that  heroical  conflagra- 
tion, he  burns  our  fingers.  Speaking,  however,  as  your 
family  adviser"— and  he  laid  enough  stress  on  it  to 
convince  me  that  there  was  no  love  lost  between  him 
and  the  interloping  Chevenix—"  I  suggest  that  we 
gain  nothing  by  protracting  this  scene  in  the  face  of 
a  crowded  assembly.  Are  you  for  the  card-room, 
madam  ?  " 

She  took  his  proffered  arm,  and  they  swept  from  us, 
leaving  Master  Ronald  red  and  glum,  and  the  major  pale 
but  nonplussed. 

"Four  from  six  leaves  two,"  said  I;  and  promptly 
380 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY:  THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

engaged  Flora's  arm,  and  towed  her  away  from  the  si- 
lenced batteries. 

"  And  now,  my  dear,"  I  added,  as  we  found  two  iso- 
lated chairs,  "  you  will  kindly  demean  yourself  as  if  we 
were  met  for  the  first  or  second  time  in  our  lives.  Open 
your  fan— so.  Now  listen:  my  cousin,  Alain,  is  in 
Edinburgh,  at  Dumbreck's  Hotel.     No,  don't  lower  it." 

She  held  up  the  fan,  though  her  small  wrist  trembled. 

"There  is  worse  to  come.  He  has  brought  Bow 
Street  with  him,  and  likely  enough  at  this  moment  the 
runners  are  ransacking  the  city  hot-foot  for  my  lodg- 
ings." 

"And  you  linger  and  show  yourself  here!— here  of 
all  places!  O,  it  is  mad!  Anne,  why  will  you  be  so 
rash  ?  " 

"  For  the  simple  reason  that  I  have  been  a  fool,  my 
dear.  I  banked  the  balance  of  my  money  in  George 
Street,  and  the  bank  is  watched.  I  must  have  money 
to  win  my  way  south.  Therefore  I  must  find  you  and 
reclaim  the  notes  you  were  kind  enough  to  keep  for  me. 
1  go  to  Swanston  and  find  you  under  surveillance  of 
Chevenix,  supported  by  an  animal  called  Towzer.  I 
may  have  killed  Towzer,  by  the  way.  If  so,  transported 
to  an  equal  sky,  he  may  shortly  have  the  faithful  Chev- 
enix to  bear  him  company.     1  grow  tired  of  Chevenix." 

But  the  fan  dropped:  her  arms  lay  limp  in  her  lap; 
and  she  was  staring  up  at  me  piteously,  with  a  world 
of  self-reproach  in  her  beautiful  eyes. 

"  And  I  locked  up  the  notes  at  home  to-night— when 
I  dressed  for  the  ball— the  first  time  they  have  left  my 
heart!     O,  false!— false  of  trust  that  1  am!  " 

"  Why,  dearest,  that  is  not  fatal,  I  hope.  You  reach 
381 


ST.  IVES 

home  to-night— you  sh'p  them  into  some  hiding— say  in 
the  corner  of  the  wall  below  the  garden—" 

"  Stop :  let  me  think."  She  picked  up  her  fan  again, 
and  behind  it  her  eyes  darkened  while  I  watched,  and 
she  considered.  "  You  know  the  hill  we  pass  before 
we  reach  Swanston?— it  has  no  name,  I  believe,  but 
Ronald  and  I  have  called  it  the  Fish-back  since  we  were 
children:  it  has  a  clump  of  firs  above  it,  like  a  fin. 
There  is  a  quarry  on  the  east  slope.  If  you  will  be  there 
at  eight— I  can  manage  it,  I  think,  and  bring  the  money." 

"  But  why  should  you  run  the  risk  ?  " 

"Please,  Anne— O,  please  let  me  do  something!  If 
you  knew  what  it  is  to  sit  at  home  while  your— your 
dearest—" 

"The  Viscount  of  Saint-Yves!" 

The  name,  shouted  from  the  doorway,  rang  down 
her  faltering  sentence  as  with  the  clash  of  an  alarm-bell. 
I  saw  Ronald— in  talk  with  Miss  McBean  but  a  few 
yards  away— spin  round  on  his  heel  and  turn  slowly 
back  on  me  with  a  face  of  sheer  bewilderment.  There 
was  no  time  to  conceal  myself.  To  reach  either  the 
tea-room  or  the  card-room,  I  must  traverse  twelve  feet 
of  open  floor.  We  sat  in  clear  view  of  the  main  en- 
trance; and  there  already,  with  eye-glass  lifted,  raffish, 
flamboyant,  exuding  pomades  and  bad  style,  stood  my 
detestable  cousin.  He  saw  us  at  once;  wheeled  right- 
about-face and  spoke  to  some  one  in  the  vestibule; 
wheeled  round  again,  and  bore  straight  down,  a  full 
swagger  varnishing  his  malign  triumph.  Flora  caught 
her  breath  as  I  stood  up  to  accost  him. 

"Good  evening,  my  cousin!  The  newspaper  tokl 
me  you  were  favouring  this  city  with  a  stay.  '* 

382 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY;  THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

"At  Dumbreck's  Hotel:  where,  my  dear  Anne,  you 
have  not  yet  done  me  the  pleasure  to  seek  me  out." 

*'I  gathered,"  said  I,  "that  you  were  forestalling  the 
compliment.     Our  meeting,  then,  is  unexpected  ?  " 

"  Why,  no ;  for,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  the  secretary  of 
the  Ball  Committee,  this  afternoon,  allowed  me  a  glance 
over  his  list  of  inviUs.  I  am  apt  to  be  nice  about  my 
company,  cousin." 

Ass  that  I  was !  I  had  never  given  this  obvious  dan- 
ger so  much  as  a  thought. 

"  I  fancy  I  have  seen  one  of  your  latest  intimates 
about  the  street." 

He  eyed  me,  and  answered,  with  a  bluff  laugh,  "  Ah ! 
You  gave  us  the  very  devil  of  a  chase.  You  appear,  my 
dear  Anne,  to  have  a  hare's  propensity  for  running  in 
your  tracks.  And  begad,  I  don't  wonder  at  it!  "  he 
wound  up,  ogling  Flora  with  an  insolent  stare. 

Him  one  might  have  hunted  by  scent  alone.  He 
reeked  of  essences. 

"  Present  me,  mon  brave.'* 

"I'll  be  shot  if  I  do." 

"  I  believe  they  reserve  that  privilege  for  soldiers,"  he 
mused. 

"  At  any  rate  they  don't  extend  it  to—"  I  pulled  up 
on  the  word.  He  had  the  upper  hand,  but  I  could  at 
least  play  the  game  out  with  decency.  "  Come,"  said  I, 
"  a  contre-danse  will  begin  presently.  Find  yourself  a 
partner,  and  I  promise  you  shall  be  our  vis-d-vis." 

"  You  have  blood  in  you,  my  cousin." 

He  bowed,  and  went  in  search  of  the  Master  of  Cere- 
monies. I  gave  an  arm  to  Flora.  "Well,  and  how 
does  Alain  strike  you  ?  "  I  asked. 

383 


ST.  IVES 

"He  is  a  handsome  man,"  she  allowed.  "If  your 
uncle  had  treated  him  differently,  I  believe—" 

"  And  I  believe  that  no  woman  alive  can  distinguish 
between  a  gentleman  and  a  dancing-master  I  A  posture 
or  two,  and  you  interpret  worth.  My  dear  girl— that 
fellow!  " 

She  was  silent.  I  have  since  learnt  why.  It  seems, 
if  you  please,  that  the  very  same  remark  had  been  made 
to  her  by  that  idiot  Chevenix,  upon  me! 

We  were  close  to  the  door:  we  passed  it,  and  I  flung 
a  glance  into  the  vestibule.  There,  sure  enough,  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  was  posted  my  friend  of  the  mole- 
skin waistcoat,  in  talk  with  a  confederate  by  some 
shades  uglier  than  himself,  a  red-headed,  loose-legged 
scoundrel  in  cinder-grey. 

I  was  fairly  in  the  trap.  I  turned,  and  between  the 
moving  crowd  caught  Alain's  eye  and  his  evil  smile. 
He  had  found  a  partner:  no  less  a  personage  than  Lady 
Frazer  of  the  lilac  sarsnet  and  diamond  bandeau. 

For  some  unaccountable  reason,  in  this  infernal  im- 
passe my  spirits  began  to  rise,  to  soar.  I  declare  it:  I 
led  Flora  forward  to  the  set  with  a  gaiety  which  may 
have  been  unnatural,  but  was  certainly  not  factitious. 
A  Scotsman  would  have  called  me  fey.  As  the  song 
goes— and  it  matters  not  if  I  had  it  then,  or  read  it  later 
in  my  wife's  library— 

"  Sae  rantingly,  sae  wantonly, 
Sae  dauntingly  gaed  he  ; 
He  played  a  spring  and  danced  it  round 
Beneath—" 

never  mind  what.     The  band  played  the  spring  and  I 
danced  it  round,  while  my  cousin  eyed  me  with  extorted 

384 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY:  THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

approval.  The  quadrille  includes  an  absurd  figure- 
called,  I  think,  La  Pastourelle.  You  take  a  lady  with 
either  hand,  and  jig  them  to  and  fro,  for  all  the  world 
like  an  Englishman  of  legend  parading  a  couple  of  wives 
for  sale  at  Smithfield;  while  the  other  male,  like  a  timid 
purchaser,  backs  and  advances  with  his  arms  dangling. 

"  I've  lived  a  Kfe  of  sturt  and  strife, 
I  die  by  treacherie— " 

I  challenged  Alain  with  an  open  smile  as  he  backed 
before  us;  and  no  sooner  was  the  dance  over,  than  I 
saw  him  desert  Lady  Frazer  on  a  hurried  excuse,  and 
seek  the  door  to  satisfy  himself  that  his  men  were  on 
guard. 

I  dropped  laughing  into  a  chair  beside  Flora.  "  Anne, " 
she  whispered,  "  who  is  on  the  stairs  ?  " 

"Two  Bow-street  runners." 

If  you  have  seen  a  dove— a  dove  caught  in  a  gin! 
"  The  back  stairs!  "  she  urged. 

"  They  will  be  watched  too.  But  let  us  make  sure." 
I  crossed  to  the  tea-room,  and,  encountering  a  waiter, 
drew  him  aside.  Was  there  a  man  watching  the  back 
entrance  ?  He  could  not  tell  me.  For  a  guinea  would 
he  find  out  ?  He  went,  and  returned  in  less  than  a 
minute.  Yes,  there  was  a  constable  below.  "  It's  just 
a  young  gentleman  to  be  put  to  the  haw  for  debt,"  I 
explained,  recalling  the  barbarous  and,  to  me,  still  un- 
meaning phrase.     "  I'm  no  speiring, "  replied  the  waiter. 

I  made  my  way  back,  and  was  not  a  little  disgusted 
to  find  my  chair  occupied  by  the  unconscionable  Chev- 
enix. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Flora,  you  are  unwell !  "  Indeed,  she 
385 


ST.  IVES 

was  pale  enough,  poor  child,  and  trembling.  "  Major, 
she  will  be  swooning  in  another  minute.  Get  her  to 
the  tea-room,  quick!  while  1  fetch  Miss  Gilchrist.  She 
must  be  taken  home." 

"  It  is  nothing,"  she  faltered:  " it  will  pass.  Pray  do 
not—"  As  she  glanced  up,  she  caught  my  meaning. 
"Yes,  yes:  I  will  go  home." 

She  took  the  major's  arm,  while  I  hurried  to  the  card- 
room.  As  luck  would  have  it,  the  old  lady  was  in  the 
act  of  rising  from  the  green  table,  having  just  cut  out 
from  a  rubber.  Mr.  Robbie  was  her  partner;  and  I  saw 
(and  blessed  my  star  for  the  first  time  that  night)  the 
little  heap  of  silver,  which  told  that  she  had  been  win- 
ning. 

"Miss  Gilchrist,"  I  whispered,  "Miss  Flora  is  faint: 
the  heat  of  the  room—" 

"  I've  not  observed  it.  The  ventilation  is  considered 
pairfect." 

"She  wishes  to  be  taken  home." 

With  fine  composure  she  counted  back  her  money, 
piece  by  piece,  into  a  velvet  reticule. 

"Twelve  and  sixpence,"  she  proclaimed.  "Ye  held 
good  cards,  Mr.  Robbie.  Well,  Mosha  the  Viscount, 
we'll  go  and  see  about  it." 

I  led  her  to  the  tea-room:  Mr.  Robbie  followed. 
Flora  rested  on  a  sofa  in  a  truly  dismal  state  of  collapse, 
while  the  major  fussed  about  her  with  a  cup  of  tea.  "  I 
have  sent  Ronald  for  the  carriage,"  he  announced. 

"  H'm, "  said  Miss  Gilchrist,  eyeing  him  oddly.  "  Well, 
it's  your  risk.  Ye'd  best  hand  me  the  teacup,  and  get 
our  shawls  from  the  lobby.  You  have  the  tickets.  Be 
ready  for  us  at  the  top  of  the  stairs." 

386 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY:  THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

No  sooner  was  the  major  gone  than,  keeping  an  eye 
on  her  niece,  this  imperturbable  lady  stirred  the  tea  and 
drank  it  down  herself.  As  she  drained  the  cup— her 
back  for  the  moment  being  turned  on  Mr.  Robbie— I 
was  aware  of  a  facial  contortion.  Was  the  tea  (as  chil- 
dren say)  going  the  wrong  way  ? 

No:  I  believe— aid  me  Apollo  and  the  Nine!  I  be- 
lieve—though I  have  never  dared,  and  shall  never  dare 
to  ask— that  Miss  Gilchrist  was  doing  her  best  to 
wink! 

On  the  instant  entered  Master  Ronald  with  word  that 
the  carriage  was  ready.  I  slipped  to  the  door  and  rec- 
onnoitred. The  crowd  was  thick  in  the  ball-room;  a 
dance  in  full  swing;  my  cousin  gambolling  vivaciously, 
and,  for  the  moment,  with  his  back  to  us.  Flora  leaned 
on  Ronald,  and,  skirting  the  wall,  our  party  gained  the 
great  door  and  the  vestibule,  where  Chevenix  stood  with 
an  armful  of  cloaks. 

"You  and  Ronald  can  return  and  enjoy  yourselves," 
said  the  old  lady,  "  as  soon  as  ye've  packed  us  off.  Ye'll 
find  a  hackney  coach,  no  doubt,  to  bring  ye  home." 
Her  eye  rested  on  the  two  runners,  who  were  putting 
their  heads  together  behind  the  major.  She  turned  on 
me  with  a  stiff  curtsey.  "  Good  night,  sir,  and  I  am 
obliged  for  your  services.  Or  stay— you  may  see  us 
to  the  carriage,  if  ye'll  be  so  kind.  Major,  hand  Mr. 
What-d'ye-call  some  of  your  wraps." 

My  eyes  did  not  dare  to  bless  her.  We  moved  down 
the  stairs— Miss  Gilchrist  leading,  Flora  supported  by 
her  brother  and  Mr.  Robbie,  the  major  and  I  behind. 
As  I  descended  the  first  step,  the  red-headed  runner 
made  a  move  forward.     Though  my  gaze  was  glued 

387 


ST.  IVES 

Upon  the  pattern  of  Miss  Gilchrist's  Paisley  shawl,  I  saw 
his  finger  touch  my  arm !  Yes,  and  I  felt  it,  like  a  touch 
of  hot  iron.  The  other  man— Moleskin— plucked  him 
by  the  arm:  they  whispered.  They  saw  me  bare- 
headed, without  my  overcoat.  They  argued,  no  doubt, 
that  I  was  unaware;  was  seeing  the  ladies  to  their  car- 
riage ;  would  of  course  return.     They  let  me  pass. 

Once  in  the  boisterous  street,  I  darted  round  to  the 
dark  side  of  the  carriage.  Ronald  ran  forward  to  the 
coachman  (whom  I  recognised  for  the  gardener,  Robie). 
*'  Miss  Flora  is  faint.  Home,  as  fast  as  you  can !  "  He 
skipped  back  under  the  awning.  "  A  guinea  to  make 
it  faster!  "  I  called  up  from  the  other  side  of  the  box- 
seat;  and  out  of  the  darkness  and  rain  I  held  up  the  coin 
and  pressed  it  into  Robie's  damp  palm.  "  What  in  the 
name— !  "  He  peered  round,  but  I  was  back  and  close 
against  the  step.  The  door  was  slammed.  "  Right 
away!  " 

It  may  have  been  fancy ;  but  with  the  shout  I  seemed 
to  hear  the  voice  of  Alain  lifted  in  imprecation  on  the 
Assembly  Room  stairs.  As  Robie  touched  up  the  grey, 
I  whipped  open  the  door  on  my  side  and  tumbled  in— 
upon  Miss  Gilchrist's  lap. 

Flora  choked  down  a  cry.  I  recovered  myself, 
dropped  into  a  heap  of  rugs  on  the  seat  facing  the  ladies, 
and  pulled-to  the  door  by  its  strap. 

Dead  silence  from  Miss  Gilchrist! 

I  had  to  apologise,  of  course.  The  wheels  rumbled 
and  jolted  over  the  cobbles  of  Edinburgh ;  the  windows 
rattled  and  shook  under  the  uncertain  gusts  of  the  city. 
When  we  passed  a  street  lamp  it  shed  no  light  into  the 
vehicle,  but  the  awful  profile  of  my  protectress  loomed 

388 


EVENTS  OF  THURSDAY:  THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

out  for  a  second  against  the  yellow  haze  of  the  pane, 
and  sank  back  into  impenetrable  shade. 

"  Madam,  some  explanation— enough  at  least  to  miti- 
gate your  resentment— natural,  I  allow—"  Jolt,  jolt! 
And  still  a  mortuary  silence  within  the  coach !  It  was 
disconcerting.  Robie  for  a  certainty  was  driving  his 
best,  and  already  we  were  beyond  the  last  rare  outposts 
of  light  on  the  Lothian  Road. 

"  I  believe,  madam,  the  inside  of  five  minutes— if  you 
will  allow—" 

I  stretched  out  a  protesting  hand.  In  the  darkness  it 
encountered  Flora's.  Our  fingers  closed  upon  the  thrill. 
For  five,  ten  beatific  seconds  our  pulses  sang  together, 
*'  I  love  you!  I  love  you!  "  in  the  stuffy  silence. 

"  Mosha  Saint-Yvey !  "  spoke  up  a  deliberate  voice 
(Flora  caught  her  hand  away),  "  as  far  as  I  can  make 
head  and  tail  of  your  business— supposing  it  to  have  a 
modicum  of  head,  which  I  doubt— it  appears  to  me  that 
I  have  just  done  you  a  service;  and  that  makes  twice." 

"A  service,  madam,  I  shall  ever  remember." 

"  I'll  chance  that,  sir ;  if  ye'll  kindly  not  f or gety our ser," 

In  resumed  silence  we  must  have  travelled  a  mile  and 
a  half,  or  two  miles,  when  Miss  Gilchrist  let  down  the 
sash  with  a  clatter,  and  thrust  her  head  and  mamelon 
cap  forth  into  the  night. 

"Robie!" 

Robie  pulled  up. 

"  The  gentleman  will  alight." 

It  was  only  wisdom,  for  we  were  nearing  Swanston. 
I  rose.  "  Miss  Gilchrist,  you  are  a  good  woman ;  and 
I  think  the  cleverest  I  have  met. "  "  Umph, "  replied  she. 
In  the  act  of  stepping  forth  I  turned  for  a  final  hand-shake 

389 


ST.  IVES 

with  Flora,  and  my  foot  caught  in  something  and 
dragged  it  out  upon  the  road.  I  stooped  to  pick  it  up, 
and  heard  the  door  bang  by  my  ear. 

"  Madam— your  shawl!  " 

But  the  coach  lurched  forward ;  the  wheels  splashed 
me;  and  I  was  left  standing,  alone  on  the  inclement 
highway. 

While  yet  I  watched  the  little  red  eyes  of  the  vehicle, 
and  almost  as  they  vanished,  I  heard  more  rumbling  of 
wheels,  and  descried  two  pairs  of  yellow  eyes  upon  the 
road,  towards  Edinburgh.  There  was  just  time  enough 
to  plunge  aside,  to  leap  a  fence  into  a  rain-soaked  pas- 
ture; and  there  I  crouched,  the  water  squishing  over  my 
dancing-shoes,  while  with  a  flare,  a  slant  of  rain,  and  a 
glimpse  of  flogging  drivers,  two  hackney  carriages 
pelted  by  at  a  gallop. 


y^ 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

EVENTS  OF  FRIDAY  MORNING:  THE  CUTTING  OF  THE 
GORDIAN  KNOT 

I  PULLED  out  my  watch.  A  fickle  ray— the  merest 
filtration  of  moonlight— glimmered  on  the  dial.  Four- 
teen minutes  past  one!  "  Past  yin  o'cloak,  and  a  dark, 
haary  moarnin*. "  1  recalled  the  bull  voice  of  the  watch- 
man as  he  had  called  it  on  the  night  of  our  escape  from 
the  castle— its  very  tones:  and  this  echo  of  memory 
seemed  to  strike  and  reverberate  the  hour  closing  a  long 
day  of  fate.  Truly,  since  that  night  the  hands  had  run 
full  circle,  and  were  back  at  the  old  starting-point.  I 
had  seen  dawn,  day:  1  had  basked  in  the  sunshine  of 
men's  respect;  I  was  back  in  Stygian  night— back  in  the 
shadow  of  that  infernal  castle— still  hunted  by  the  law 
—with  possibly  a  smaller  chance  than  ever  of  escape— 
the  cockshy  of  the  elements— with  no  shelter  for  my 
head  but  a  Paisley  shawl  of  violent  pattern.  It  occurred 
to  me  that  I  had  travelled  much  in  the  interval,  and  run 
many  risks,  to  exchange  a  suit  of  mustard  yellow  for  a 
Paisley  shawl  and  a  ball  dress  that  matched  neither  it 
nor  the  climate  of  the  Pentlands.  The  exhilaration  of 
the  ball,  the  fighting  spirit,  the  last  communicated  thrill 
of  Flora's  hand,  died  out  of  me.     In  the  thickening  en- 

391 


ST.  IVES 

velope  of  sea-fog  I  felt  like  a  squirrel  in  a  rotatory  cage. 
That  was  a  lugubrious  hour. 

To  speak  precisely,  those  were  seven  lugubrious 
hours ;  since  Flora  would  not  be  due  before  eight  o'clock, 
if,  indeed,  I  might  count  on  her  eluding  her  double  cor- 
don of  spies.  The  question  was,  whither  to  turn  in 
the  meantime  ?  Certainly  not  back  to  the  town.  In 
the  near  neighbourhood  I  knew  of  no  roof  but  the 
Hunters'  Tryst,  by  Alexander  Hendry.  Suppose  that  I 
found  it  (and  the  chances  in  that  fog  were  perhaps 
against  me),  would  Alexander  Hendry,  aroused  from 
his  bed,  be  likely  to  extend  his  hospitality  to  a  traveller 
with  no  more  luggage  than  a  Paisley  shawl  ?  He  might 
think  I  had  stolen  it.  I  had  borne  it  down  the  staircase 
under  the  eyes  of  the  runners,  and  the  pattern  was  bitten 
upon  my  brain.  It  was  doubtless  unique  in  the  district, 
and  familiar:  an  oriflamme  of  battle  over  the  barter  of 
dairy  produce  and  malt  liquors.  Alexander  Hendry 
must  recognise  it,  and  with  an  instinct  of  antagonism. 
Patently  it  formed  no  part  of  my  proper  wardrobe: 
hardly  could  it  be  explained  as  a  gage  d' amour.  Eccen- 
tric hunters  trysted  under  Hendry's  roof;  the  Six-Foot 
Club,  for  instance.  But  a  hunter  in  a  frilled  shirt  and 
waistcoat  sprigged  with  forget-me-nots  I  And  the  house 
would  be  watched,  perhaps.  Every  house  around 
would  be  watched. 

The  end  was  that  I  wore  through  the  remaining 
hours  of  darkness  upon  the  sodden  hillside.  Superlative 
Miss  Gilchrist!  Folded  in  the  mantle  of  that  Spartan 
dame;  huddled  upon  a  boulder,  while  the  rain  descended 
upon  my  bare  head,  and  coursed  down  my  nose,  and 
filled  my  shoes,  and  insinuated  a  playful  trickle  down 

392 


EVENTS  OF  FRIDAY   MORNING 

the  ridge  of  my  spine;  I  hugged  the  lacerating  fox  of 
self-reproach,  and  hugged  it  again,  and  set  my  teeth  as 
it  bit  upon  my  vitals.  Once,  indeed,  I  lifted  an  accus- 
ing arm  to  heaven.  It  was  as  if  I  had  pulled  the  string 
of  a  douche-bath.  Heaven  flooded  the  fool  with  gratui- 
tous tears;  and  the  fool  sat  in  the  puddle  of  them  and 
knew  his  folly.  But  heaven  at  the  same  time  mercifully 
veiled  that  figure  of  abasement;  and  I  will  lift  but  a 
corner  of  the  sheet. 

Wind  in  hidden  gullies,  and  the  talk  of  lapsing  waters 
on  the  hillside,  filled  all  the  spaces  of  the  night.  The 
highroad  lay  at  my  feet,  fifty  yards  or  so  below  my 
boulder.  Soon  after  two  o'clock  (as  I  made  it)  lamps 
appeared  in  the  direction  of  Swanston,  and  drew  nearer; 
and  two  hackney  coaches  passed  me  at  a  jog-trot,  to- 
wards the  opaline  haze  into  which  the  weather  had  sub- 
dued the  lights  of  Edinburgh.  I  heard  one  of  the  drivers 
curse  as  he  went  by,  and  inferred  that  my  open-handed 
cousin  had  shirked  the  weather  and  gone  comfortably 
from  the  Assembly  Rooms  to  Dumbreck's  Hotel  and 
bed,  leaving  the  chase  to  his  mercenaries. 

After  this  you  are  to  believe  that  I  dozed  and  woke 
by  snatches.  I  watched  the  moon  descend  in  her 
foggy  circle;  but  I  saw  also  the  mulberry  face  and  min- 
atory forefinger  of  Mr.  Romaine,  and  caught  myself  ex- 
plaining to  him  and  Mr.  Robbie  that  their  joint  pro- 
posal to  mortgage  my  inheritance  for  a  flying  broom- 
stick took  no  account  of  the  working  model  of  the 
whole  Rock  and  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  which  I  dragged 
about  by  an  ankle-chain.  Anon  I  was  pelting  with 
Rowley  in  a  claret-coloured  chaise  through  a  cloud  of 
robin-redbreasts ;  and  with  that  I  awoke  to  the  veritable 

393 


ST.  IVES 

chatter  of  birds  and  the  white  light  of  dawn  upon  the 
hills. 

The  truth  is,  I  had  come  very  near  to  the  end  of  my 
endurance.  Cold  and  rain  together,  supervening  in  that 
hour  of  the  spirit's  default,  may  well  have  made  me 
light-headed;  nor  was  it  easy  to  distinguish  the  tooth 
of  self-reproach  from  that  of  genuine  hunger.  Stiff, 
qualmish,  vacant  of  body,  heart,  and  brain,  I  left  my 
penitential  boulder  and  crawled  down  to  the  road. 
Glancing  along  it  for  sight  or  warning  of  the  runners,  I 
spied,  at  two  gunshots'  distance  or  less,  a  milestone 
with  a  splash  of  white  upon  it— a  draggled  placard. 
Abhorrent  thought!  Did  it  announce  the  price  upon 
the  head  of  Champdivers  ?  "  At  least  I  will  see  how 
they  describe  him  "—this  I  told  myself;  but  that  which 
tugged  at  my  feet  was  the  baser  fascination  of  fright. 
I  had  thought  my  spine  inured  by  the  night's  experi- 
ences to  anything  in  the  way  of  cold  shivers.  I  discov- 
ered my  mistake  while  approaching  that  scrap  of  paper. 

"AERIAL  ASCENSION   EXTRAORDINARY!!! 

IN 
THE  MONSTRE  BALLOON 

'LUNARDl' 

Professor  Byfield  (By  Diploma),  the  World- Renowned 

Exponent  of  Aerostatics  and  Aeronautics, 

Has  the  honour  to  inform  the  Nobility  and  Gentry  of 

Edinburgh  and  the  neighbourhood—" 

The  shock  of  it— the  sudden  descent  upon  sublimity, 
according  to  Byfield— took  me  in  the  face.  I  put  up 
my  hands.     I  broke  into  elfish  laughter,  and  ended 

394 


EVENTS  OF  FRIDAY  MORNING 

with  a  sob.  Sobs  and  laughter  together  shook  my  fast- 
ing body  like  a  leaf;  and  I  zigzagged  across  the  fields, 
buffeted  this  side  and  that  by  a  mirth  as  uncontrollable 
as  it  was  idiotic.  Once  I  pulled  up  in  the  middle  of  a 
spasm  to  marvel  irresponsibly  at  the  sound  of  my  own 
voice.  You  may  wonder  that  I  had  will  and  wit  to 
be  drifted  towards  Flora's  trysting-place.  But  in  truth 
there  was  no  missing  it— the  low  chine  looming  through 
the  weather,  the  line  of  firs  topping  it,  and,  towards  the 
west,  diminishing  like  a  fish's  dorsal  fm.  I  had  conned 
it  often  enough  from  the  other  side;  had  looked  right 
across  it  on  the  day  when  she  stood  beside  me  on  the 
bastion  and  pointed  out  the  smoke  of  Swanston  Cottage. 
Only  on  this  side  the  fish-tail  (so  to  speak)  had  a  nick  in 
it;  and  through  that  nick  ran  the  path  to  the  old  quarry. 

I  reached  it  a  little  before  eight.  The  quarry  lay  to 
the  left  of  the  path,  which  passed  on  and  out  upon  the 
hill's  northern  slope.  Upon  that  slope  there  was  no 
need  to  show  myself.  I  measured  out  some  fifty  yards 
of  the  path,  and  paced  it  to  and  fro,  idly  counting  my 
steps ;  for  the  chill  crept  back  into  my  bones  if  I  halted 
for  a  minute.  Once  or  twice  I  turned  aside  into  the 
quarry,  and  stood  there  tracing  the  veins  in  the  hewn 
rock :  then  back  to  my  quarterdeck  tramp  and  the  study 
of  my  watch.  Ten  minutes  past  eight!  Fool— to  ex- 
pect her  to  cheat  so  many  spies.  This  hunger  of  mine 
was  becoming  serious.  .  .  . 

A  stone  dislodged— a  light  footfall  on  the  path— and 
my  heart  leapt.  It  was  she!  She  came,  and  earth 
flowered  again,  as  beneath  the  feet  of  the  goddess,  her 
namesake.  I  declare  it  for  a  fact  that  from  the  moment 
of  her  coming  the  weather  began  to  mend. 

39^ 


ST.  IVES 

"Flora!" 

"My  poor  Anne!  " 

"The  shawl  has  been  useful,"  said  I. 

"You  are  starving." 

"  That  is  unpleasantly  near  the  truth." 

"I  knew  it.  See,  dear."  A  shawl  of  hodden  grey 
covered  her  head  and  shoulders,  and  from  beneath  it 
she  produced  a  small  basket  and  held  it  up.  "The 
scones  will  be  hot  yet,  for  they  went  straight  from  the 
hearth  into  the  napkin." 

She  led  the  way  to  the  quarry.  I  praised  her  fore- 
thought; having  in  those  days  still  to  learn  that  woman's 
first  instinct,  when  a  man  is  dear  to  her  and  in  trouble, 
is  to  feed  him. 

We  spread  the  napkin  on  a  big  stone  of  the  quarry, 
and  set  out  the  feast :  scones,  oat-cake,  hard-boiled  eggs, 
a  bottle  of  milk,  and  a  small  flask  of  usquebaugh.  Our 
hands  met  as  we  prepared  the  table.  This  was  our  first 
housekeeping;  the  first  breakfast  of  our  honeymoon  I 
called  it,  rallying  her.  "Starving  I  may  be;  but  starve 
I  will  in  sight  of  food,  unless  you  share  it,"  and,  "It 
escapes  me  for  the  moment,  madam,  if  you  take  sugar." 
We  leaned  to  each  other  across  the  rock,  and  our  faces 
touched.  Her  cold  cheek  with  the  rain  upon  it,  and  one 
small  damp  curl— for  many  days  I  had  to  feed  upon  the 
memory  of  that  kiss,  and  I  feed  upon  it  yet. 

"  But  it  beats  me  how  you  escaped  them,"  said  I. 

She  laid  down  the  bannock  she  had  been  making  pre- 
tence to  nibble.  "Janet— that  is  our  dairy-girl— lent  me 
her  frock  and  shawl:  her  shoes  too.  She  goes  out  to 
the  milking  at  six,  and  I  took  her  place.  The  fog  helped 
me.    They  are  hateful." 

396 


EVENTS   OF  FRIDAY   MORNING 

"  They  are,  my  dear.     Chevenix— '* 

"  I  mean  these  clothes.  And  I  am  thinking,  too,  of 
the  poor  cows." 

"  The  instinct  of  animals—"  I  lifted  my  glass.  "  Let 
us  trust  it  to  find  means  to  attract  the  notice  of  two 
paid  detectives  and  two  volunteers." 

"I  had  rather  count  on  Aunt,"  said  Flora,  with  one 
of  her  rare  and  adorable  smiles,  which  fleeted  as  it  came. 
"But,  Anne,  we  must  not  waste  time.  They  are  so 
many  against  you,  and  so  near.     O,  be  serious !  " 

"Now  you  are  talking  like  Mr.  Romaine." 

"For  my  sake,  dear!"  She  clasped  her  hands.  I 
took  them  in  mine  across  the  table,  and,  unclasping 
them,  kissed  the  palms. 

"Sweetheart,"  I  said,  "before  this  weather  clears—" 

"It  is  clearing." 

"  We  will  give  it  time.  Before  this  weather  clears, 
I  must  be  across  the  valley  and  fetching  a  circuit  for  the 
drovers'  road,  if  you  can  teach  me  when  to  hit  it." 

She  withdrew  one  of  her  hands.  It  went  up  to  the 
throat  of  her  bodice,  and  came  forth  with  my  packet  of 
notes. 

"  Good  Lord !  "  said  I :  "if  I  hadn't  forgotten  the 
money!  " 

"  I  think  nothing  teaches  you,"  sighed  she. 

She  had  sewn  them  tightly  in  a  little  bag  of  yellow 
oiled  silk ;  and  as  I  held  it,  warm  from  her  young  bosom, 
and  turned  it  over  in  my  hand,  I  saw  that  it  was  em- 
broidered in  scarlet  thread  with  the  one  word  "  Anne  " 
beneath  the  Lion  Rampant  of  Scotland,  in  imitation  of 
the  poor  toy  I  had  carved  for  her— it  seemed,  so  long 
ago! 

397 


ST.  IVES 

"  I  wear  the  original,"  she  murmured. 

I  crushed  the  parcel  into  my  breast  pocket,  and,  tak- 
ing both  hands  again,  fell  on  my  knees  before  her  on 
the  stones. 

"  Flora— my  angel!  my  heart's  bride!  " 

"  Hush !  "  She  sprang  away.  Heavy  footsteps  were 
coming  up  the  path.  I  had  just  time  enough  to  fling 
Miss  Gilchrist's  shawl  over  my  head  and  resume  my 
seat,  when  a  couple  of  buxom  country  wives  bustled 
past  the  mouth  of  the  quarry.  They  saw  us,  beyond  a 
doubt:  indeed,  they  stared  hard  at  us,  and  muttered 
some  comment  as  they  went  by,  and  left  us  gazing  at 
each  other. 

"  They  took  us  for  a  picnic,"  I  whispered. 

"The  queer  thing,"  said  Flora,  "is  that  they  were 
not  surprised.     The  sight  of  you—" 

"  Seen  sideways  in  this  shawl,  and  with  my  legs 
hidden  by  the  stone  here,  I  might  pass  for  an  elderly 
female  junketer." 

"  This  is  scarcely  the  hour  for  a  picnic,"  answered  my 
wise  girl,  "and  decidedly  not  the  weather." 

The  sound  of  another  footstep  prevented  my  reply. 
This  time  the  wayfarer  was  an  old  farmer-looking  fellow 
in  a  shepherd's  plaid  and  bonnet  powdered  with  mist. 
He  halted  before  us  and  nodded,  leaning  rheumatically 
on  his  staff. 

"A  coarse  moarnin'.  Ye'll  be  from  Leadburn,  I'm 
thinkin'  ?  " 

"  Put  it  at  Peebles,"  said  I,  making  shift  to  pull  the 
shawl  close  about  my  damning  finery. 

"  Peebles !  "  he  said  reflectively.  "  I've  ne'er  ventured 
so  far  as  Peebles.     I've  contemplated  it!     But  I  was 

398 


EVENTS  OF   FRIDAY  MORNING 

none  sure  whether  I  would  like  it  when  I  got  there. 
See  here:  I  recommend  ye  no  to  be  lazin'  ower  the 
meat,  gin  ye'd  drap  in  for  the  fun.  A'm  full  late,  my- 
sel'  !  " 

He  passed  on.  What  could  it  mean  ?  We  hearkened 
after  his  tread.  Before  it  died  away,  I  sprang  and 
caught  Flora  by  the  hand. 

"  Listen!     Heavens  above  us,  what  is  that?** 

"  It  sounds  to  me  like  Gow's  version  of  The  Caledo- 
man  Hunt's  Delight,  on  a  brass  band." 

Jealous  powers !  Had  Olympus  conspired  to  ridicule 
our  love,  that  we  must  exchange  our  parting  vows  to 
the  public  strains  of  The  Caledonian  Hunt's  Delight,  in 
Gow's  version  and  a  semitone  flat  ?  For  three  seconds 
Flora  and  I  (in  the  words  of  a  later  British  bard)  looked 
at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise,  silent.  Then  she 
darted  to  the  path,  and  gazed  along  it  down  the  hill. 

"  We  must  run,  Anne.     There  are  more  coming!  " 

We  left  the  scattered  relics  of  breakfast,  and,  taking 
hands,  scurried  along  the  path  northward.  A  few  yards, 
and  with  a  sharp  turn  it  led  us  out  of  the  cutting  and  upon 
the  hillside.   And  here  we  pulled  up  together  with  a  gasp. 

Right  beneath  us  lay  a  green  meadow,  dotted  with  a 
crowd  of  two  or  three  hundred  people;  and  over  the 
nucleus  of  this  gathering,  where  it  condensed  into  a 
black  swarm,  as  of  bees,  there  floated,  not  only  the 
dispiriting  music  of  The  Caledonian  Hunt's  Delight,  but 
an  object  of  size  and  shape  suggesting  the  Genie  escaped 
from  the  Fisherman's  Bottle,  as  described  in  M.  Galland's 
ingenious  Thousand  and  One  Nights.  It  was  Byfield's 
balloon— the  monster  Lunardi— in  process  of  inflation. 

"Confound  Byfield!  "  I  ejaculated  in  my  haste. 
399 


ST.  IVES 

"  Who  is  Byfield  ?  " 

"  An  aeronaut,  my  dear,  of  bilious  humour;  which  no 
doubt  accounts  for  his  owning  a  balloon  striped  alter- 
nately with  liver-colour  and  pale  blue,  and  for  his 
arranging  it  and  a  brass  band  in  the  very  line  of  my 
escape.  That  man  dogs  me  like  fate."  I  broke  off 
sharply.     "  And  after  all,  why  not  ?  "  I  mused. 

The  next  instant  I  swung  round,  as  Flora  uttered  a 
piteous  little  cry;  and  there,  behind  us,  in  the  outlet  of 
the  cutting,  stood  Major  Chevenix  and  Ronald. 

The  boy  stepped  forward,  and,  ignoring  my  bow, 
laid  a  hand  on  Flora's  arm. 

"  You  will  come  home  at  once." 

I  touched  his  shoulder.  "  Surely  not,"  I  said,  "  seeing 
that  the  spectacle  apparently  wants  but  ten  minutes  of 
its  climax." 

He  swung  on  me  in  a  passion.  "For  God's  sake, 
Saint-Yves,  don't  force  a  quarrel  now,  of  all  moments! 
Man,  haven't  you  compromised  my  sister  enough  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  that,  having  set  a  watch  on  your 
sister  at  the  suggestion  and  with  the  help  of  a  casual 
Major  of  Foot,  you  might  in  decency  reserve  the  word 
*  compromise '  for  home  consumption;  and  further,  that 
against  adversaries  so  poorly  sensitive  to  her  feelings, 
your  sister  may  be  pardoned  for  putting  her  resentment 
into  action." 

"  Major  Chevenix  is  a  friend  of  the  family."  But  the 
lad  blushed  as  he  said  it. 

"  The  family  ?  "  I  echoed.  "  So  ?  Pray  did  your  aunt 
invite  his  help?  No,  no,  my  dear  Ronald;  you  cannot 
answer  that.  And  while  you  play  the  game  of  insult  to 
your  sister,  sir,  1  will  see  that  you  eat  the  discredit  of  it." 

400 


EVENTS  OF  FRIDAY  MORNING 

"Excuse  me,"  interposed  the  major,  stepping  for- 
ward. "As  Ronald  said,  this  is  not  the  moment  for 
quarrelling;  and,  as  you  observed,  sir,  the  climax  is  not 
so  far  off.  The  runner  and  his  men  are  even  now  com- 
ing round  the  hill.  We  saw  them  mounting  the  slope, 
and  (I  may  add)  your  cousin's  carriage  drawn  up  on  the 
road  below.  The  fact  is,  Miss  Gilchrist  has  been  traced 
to  the  hill;  and  as  it  secretly  occurred  to  us  that  the 
quarry  might  be  her  objective,  we  arranged  to  take  the 
ascent  on  this  side.  See  there!  "  he  cried,  and  flung  out 
a  hand. 

I  looked  up.  Sure  enough,  at  that  instant,  a  grey- 
coated  figure  appeared  on  the  summit  of  the  hill,  not 
five  hundred  yards  away  to  the  left.  He  was  followed 
closely  by  my  friend  of  the  moleskin  waistcoat;  and 
the  pair  came  sidling  down  the  slope  towards  us. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  I,  "it  appears  that  I  owe  you  my 
thanks.   Your  stratagem  in  any  case  was  kindly  meant. " 

"There  was  Miss  Gilchrist  to  consider,"  said  the 
major  stiffly.  But  Ronald  cried,  "Quick,  St.  Ives! 
Make  a  dash  back  by  the  quarry  path.  I  warrant  we 
don't  hinder." 

"Thank  you,  my  friend:  I  have  another  notion. 
Flora,"  I  said,  and  took  her  hand,  "here  is  our  parting. 
The  next  five  minutes  will  decide  much.  Be  brave,  dear- 
est; and  your  thoughts  go  with  me  till  I  come  again." 

"Wherever  you  go,  I'll  think  of  you.  Whatever 
happens,  I'll  love  you.  Go,  and  God  defend  you, 
Anne !  "  Her  breast  heaved,  as  she  faced  the  major,  red 
and  shamefast  indeed,  but  gloriously  defiant. 

"Quick!"  cried  she  and  her  brother  together.  I 
kissed  her  hand  and  sprang  down  the  hill. 

401 


ST.  IVES 

I  heard  a  shout  behind  me;  and,  glancing  back,  saw 
my  pursuers— three  now,  with  my  full-bodied  cousin 
for  whipper-in— change  their  course  as  I  leapt  a  brook 
and  headed  for  the  crowded  enclosure.  A  somnolent 
fat  man,  bulging,  like  a  feather-bed,  on  a  three-legged 
stool,  dozed  at  the  receipt  of  custom,  with  a  deal  table 
and  a  bowl  of  sixpences  before  him.  I  dashed  on  him 
with  a  crown-piece. 

"No  change  given,"  he  objected,  waking  up  and 
fumbling  with  a  bundle  of  pink  tickets. 

"None  required."  I  snatched  the  ticket  and  ran 
through  the  gateway. 

I  gave  myself  time  for  another  look  before  mingling 
with  the  crowd.  The  moleskin  waistcoat  was  leading 
now,  and  had  reached  the  brook ;  with  red-head  a  yard 
or  two  behind,  and  my  cousin  a  very  bad  third,  panting 
—it  pleased  me  to  imagine  how  sorely— across  the  lower 
slopes  to  the  eastward.  The  janitor  leaned  against  his 
toll-bar  and  still  followed  me  with  a  stare.  Doubtless 
by  my  uncovered  head  and  gala  dress  he  judged  me  an 
all-night  reveller— a  strayed  Bacchanal  fooling  in  the 
morrow's  eye. 

Prompt  upon  the  inference  came  inspiration.  I  must 
win  to  the  centre  of  the  crowd,  and  a  crowd  is  invari- 
ably indulgent  to  a  drunkard.  I  hung  out  the  glaring 
signboard  of  crapulous  glee.  Lurching,  hiccoughing, 
jostling,  apologising  to  all  and  sundry  with  spacious  in- 
coherence, I  plunged  my  way  through  the  sight-seers, 
and  they  gave  me  passage  with  all  the  good-humour  in 
life. 

I  believe  that  I  descended  upon  that  crowd  as  a  god- 
send, a  dancing  rivulet  of  laughter.     They  needed  en- 

40a 


EVENTS  OF  FRIDAY  MORNING 

tertainment.  A  damper,  less  enthusiastic  company 
never  gathered  to  a  public  show.  Though  the  rain  had 
ceased,  and  the  sun  shone,  those  who  possessed  um- 
brellas were  not  to  be  coaxed,  but  held  them  aloft  with 
a  settled  air  of  gloom  which  defied  the  lenitives  of  na- 
ture and  the  spasmodic  cajolery  of  the  worst  band  in 
Edinburgh.  "It'll  be  near  full,  Jock?"  "It  wull." 
"He'll  be  startin'  in  a  meenit?"  "Aiblins  he  wull." 
"  Wull  this  be  the  sixt  time  ye've  seen  him  ?  "  "  I 
shudna  wonder."  It  occurred  to  me  that,  had  we  come 
to  bury  Byfield,  not  to  praise  him,  we  might  have  dis- 
played a  blither  interest. 

Byfield  himself,  bending  from  the  car  beneath  his 
gently  swaying  canopy  of  liver-colour  and  pale  blue, 
directed  the  proceedings  with  a  mien  of  saturnine  pre- 
occupation. He  may  have  been  calculating  the  receipts. 
As  I  squeezed  to  the  front,  his  underlings  were  shifting 
the  pipe  which  conveyed  the  hydrogen  gas,  and  the 
Lunardi  strained  gently  at  its  ropes.  Somebody  with 
a  playful  thrust  sent  me  staggering  into  the  clear  space 
beneath. 

And  here  a  voice  hailed  and  fetched  me  up  with  a 
round  turn. 

"  Ducie,  by  all  that's  friendly !  Playmate  of  my  youth 
and  prop  of  my  declining  years,  how  goes  it  ?  " 

It  was  the  egregious  Dalmahoy.  He  clung  and  stead- 
ied himself  by  one  of  the  dozen  ropes  binding  the  car 
to  earth ;  and  with  an  air  of  doing  it  all  by  his  unaided 
cleverness— an  air  so  indescribably,  so  majestically 
drunken,  that  I  could  have  blushed  for  the  poor  expe- 
dients which  had  carried  me  through  the  throng. 

"  You'll  excuse  me  if  I  don't  let  go.  Fact  is,  we've 
403 


ST.  IVES 

been  keeping  it  up  a  bit  all  night.  Byfield  leaves  us—, 
to  expatiate  in  realms  untrodden  by  the  foot  of  man— 

*  The  feathered  tribes  on  pinions  cleave  the  air  ; 
Not  so  the  mackerel,  and,  still  less,  the  bear.' 

But  Byfield  does  it— Byfield  in  his  Monster  Foolardi. 
One  stroke  of  this  knife  (always  supposing  I  miss  my 
own  hand),  and  the  rope  is  severed:  our  common  friend 
scales  the  empyrean.  But  he'll  come  back— O,  never 
doubt  he'll  come  back!— and  begin  the  dam  business 
over  again.     Tha's  the  law  'gravity  'cording  to  Byfield." 

Mr.  Dalmahoy  concluded  inconsequently  with  a  vocal 
imitation  of  a  post-horn;  and,  looking  up,  I  saw  the 
head  and  shoulders  of  Byfield  projected  over  the  rim  of 
the  car. 

He  drew  the  natural  inference  from  my  dress  and 
demeanour,  and  groaned  aloud. 

"  O,  go  away— get  out  of  it,  Ducie !  Isn't  one  natural 
born  ass  enough  for  me  to  deal  with  ?  You  fellows  are 
guying  the  whole  show!  " 

"  Byfield !  "  I  called  up  eagerly,  "  I'm  not  drunk. 
Reach  me  down  a  ladder,  quick!  A  hundred  guineas 
if  you'll  take  me  with  you!  "  I  saw  over  the  crowd, 
not  ten  deep  behind  me,  the  red  head  of  the  man  in 
grey. 

"That  proves  it,"  said  Byfield.  "Go  away;  or  at 
least  keep  quiet.  I'm  going  to  make  a  speech."  He 
cleared  his  throat.     "  Ladies  and  gentlemen—" 

1  held  up  my  packet  of  notes.  "  Here's  the  money, 
—for  pity's  sake,  man!  There  are  bailififs  after  me,  in 
the  crowd!  " 

"  —the  spectacle  which  you  have  honoured  with  your 
404 


EVENTS  OF  FRIDAY  MORNING 

enlightened  patronage— I  tell  you  I  can't/*  He  cast  a 
glance  behind  him  into  the  car—"  with  your  enlightened 
patronage,  needs  but  few  words  of  introduction  or 
commendation." 

"  Hear,  hear!  "  from  Dalmahoy. 

*'  Your  attendance  proves  the  sincerity  of  your  inter- 
est-" 

I  spread  out  the  notes  under  his  eyes.  He  blinked, 
but  resolutely  lifted  his  voice. 

"  The  spectacle  of  a  solitary  voyager—" 

"Two  hundred!  "  I  called  up. 

"  The  spectacle  of  two  hundred  solitary  voyagers- 
cradled  in  the  brain  of  a  Montgolfier  and  a  Charles— O, 
stop  it!     I'm  no  public  speaker!     How  the  deuce—  ?  " 

There  was  a  lurch  and  a  heave  in  the  crowd.  "  Pitch 
oot  the  drunken  loon !  "  cried  a  voice.  The  next  mo- 
ment I  heard  my  cousin  bawling  for  a  clear  passage. 
With  the  tail  of  my  eye  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  plethoric 
perspiring  face  as  he  came  charging  past  the  barrels  of 
the  hydrogen-apparatus;  and,  with  that,  Byfield  had 
shaken  down  a  rope-ladder  and  fixed  it,  and  I  was 
scrambling  up  like  a  cat. 

"Cut  the  ropes!  " 

"  Stop  him !  "  my  cousin  bawled.  "  Stop  the  balloon ! 
It's  Champdivers,  the  murderer!  " 

"  Cut  the  ropes !  "  vociferated  Byfield ;  and  to  my  in- 
finite relief  I  saw  that  Dalmahoy  was  doing  his  best. 
A  hand  clutched  at  my  heel.  I  let  out  viciously,  amid 
a  roar  of  the  crowd ;  felt  the  kick  reach  and  rattle  home 
on  somebody's  teeth;  and,  as  the  crowd  made  a  rush 
and  the  balloon  swayed  and  shot  upward,  heaved  my- 
self over  the  rim  into  the  car. 

405 


ST.  IVES 

Recovering  myself  on  the  instant,  I  bent  over.  I  had 
on  my  tongue  a  neat  farewell  for  Alain,  but  the  sight 
of  a  hundred  upturned  and  contorted  faces  silenced  me 
as  a  blow  might.  There  had  lain  my  real  peril,  in  the 
sudden  wild-beast  rage  now  suddenly  baffled.  I  read 
it,  as  clear  as  print,  and  sickened.  Nor  was  Alain  in  a 
posture  to  listen.  My  kick  had  sent  Moleskin  flying  on 
top  of  him ;  and  borne  to  earth,  prone  beneath  the  su- 
perincumbent bulk  of  his  retainer,  he  lay  with  hands 
outspread  like  a  swimmer's  and  nose  buried  in  the 
plashy  soil. 


406 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 
"the  incomplete  aeronauts" 

All  this  I  took  in  at  a  glance:  I  dare  say  in  three 
seconds  or  less.  The  hubbub  beneath  us  dropped  to 
a  low,  rumbling  bass.  Suddenly  a  woman's  scream 
divided  it— one  high-pitched,  penetrating  scream,  fol- 
lowed by  silence.  And  then,  as  a  pack  of  hounds  will 
start  into  cry,  voice  after  voice  caught  up  the  scream 
and  reduplicated  it  until  the  whole  enclosure  rang  with 
alarm. 

"Hullo!  "  Byfield  called  to  me:  "what  the  deuce  is 
happening  now  ?  "  and  ran  to  his  side  of  the  car. 
"Good   Lord,   it's   Dalmahoy!  " 

It  was.  Beneath  us,  at  the  tail  of  a  depending  rope, 
that  unhappy  lunatic  dangled  between  earth  and  sky. 
He  had  been  the  first  to  cut  the  tether;  and,  having 
severed  it  below  his  grasp,  had  held  on  while  the  others 
cut  loose,  taking  even  the  asinine  precaution  to  loop  the 
end  twice  round  his  wrist.  Of  course  the  upward  surge 
of  the  balloon  had  heaved  him  off  his  feet,  and  his 
muddled  instinct  did  the  rest.  Clutching  now  with 
both  hands,  he  was  borne  aloft  like  a  lamb  from  the 
flock. 

So  we  reasoned  afterwards.  "  The  grapnel !  "  gasped 
407 


ST.  IVES 

Byfield ;  for  Dalmahoy's  rope  was  fastened  beneath  the 
floor  of  the  car,  and  not  to  be  reached  by  us.  We 
fumbled  to  cast  the  grapnel  loose,  and  shouted  down 
together: 

"  For  God's  sake  hold  on !  Catch  the  anchor  when 
it  comes!     You'll  break  your  neck  if  you  drop!  " 

He  swung  into  sight  again  beyond  the  edge  of  the 
floor,  and  uplifted  a  strained,  white  face. 

We  cast  loose  the  grapnel,  lowered  it  and  jerked  it 
towards  him.  He  swung  past  it  like  a  pendulum, 
caught  at  it  with  one  hand,  and  missed;  came  flying 
back  on  the  receding  curve  and  missed  again.  At  the 
third  attempt  he  blundered  right  against  it,  and  flung  an 
arm  over  one  of  the  flukes,  next  a  leg,  and  in  a  trice  we 
were  hauling  up,  hand  over  hand. 

We  dragged  him  inboard.  He  was  pale,  but  unde- 
featedly  voluble. 

"  Must  apologise  to  you  fellows,  really.  Dam  silly, 
clumsy  kind  of  thing  to  do;  might  have  been  awkward 
too.  Thank  you,  Byfield,  my  boy,  I  will:  two  fingers 
only— a  harmless  steadier." 

He  took  the  flask  and  was  lifting  it.  But  his  jaw 
dropped  and  his  hand  hung  arrested. 

"  He's  going  to  faint,"  1  cried.     "  The  strain—" 

"  Strain  on  your  grandmother,  Ducie!    What's  that?'* 

He  was  staring  past  my  shoulder,  and  on  the  instant 
I  was  aware  of  a  voice— not  the  aeronaut's— speaking 
behind  me,  and,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  clouds,— 

**  I  tak'  ye  to  witness,  Mister  Byfield—" 

Consider,  if  you  please.  For  six  days  I  had  been 
oscillating  within  a  pretty  complete  circumference  of 
alarms.     It  is  small  blame  to  me,  I  hope,  that  with  my 

408 


"THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

nerve  on  so  nice  a  pivot  I  quivered  and  swung  to  this 
new  apprehension  like  a  needle  in  a  compass-box. 

On  the  floor  of  the  car,  at  my  feet,  lay  a  heap  of  plaid 
rugs  and  overcoats,  from  which,  successively  and  pain- 
fully disinvolved,  there  emerged  first  a  hand  clutching  a 
rusty  beaver  hat,  next  a  mildly  indignant  face,  in  spec- 
tacles, and  finally  the  rearward  of  a  very  small  man  in 
a  seedy  suit  of  black.  He  rose  on  his  knees,  his  finger- 
tips resting  on  the  floor,  and  contemplated  the  aeronaut 
over  his  glasses  with  a  world  of  reproach. 

"  1  tak'  ye  to  witness,  Mr.  Byfield!  " 

Byfield  mopped  a  perspiring  brow. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  he  stammered,  *'  all  a  mistake— no  fault 
of  mine— explain  presently";  then,  as  one  catching  at 
an  inspiration,  "  Allow  me  to  introduce  you.  Mr.  Dal- 
mahoy,  Mr. " 

"  My  name  is  Sheepshanks,"  said  the  little  man  stiffly. 
*'  But  you'll  excuse  me—" 

Mr.  Dalmahoy  interrupted  with  a  playful  cat-call. 

"Hear,  hear!  Silence!  'His  name  is  Sheepshanks. 
On  the  Grampian  Hills  his  father  kept  ^his  flocks— a 
thousand  sheep,'  and,  I  make  no  doubt,  shanks  in  pro- 
portion. Excuse  you.  Sheepshanks?  My  dear  sir! 
At  this  altitude  one  shank  was  more  than  we  had  a 
right  to  expect:  the  plural  multiplies  the  obligation." 
Keeping  a  tight  hold  on  his  hysteria,  Dalmahoy  steadied 
himself  by  a  rope  and  bowed. 

"And  I,  sir"— as  Mr.  Sheepshanks'  thoroughly  be- 
wildered gaze  travelled  around  and  met  mine— "I,  sir, 
am  the  Vicomte  Anne  de  Keroual  de  Saint-Yves,  at 
your  service.  I  haven't  a  notion  how  or  why  you 
come  to  be  here;  but  you  seem  likely  to  be  an  acquis!- 

409 


ST.  IVES 

tion.  On  my  part,"  I  continued,  as  there  leapt  into  my 
mind  the  stanza  I  had  vainly  tried  to  recover  in  Mrs. 
McRankine's  sitting-room,  "  I  have  the  honour  to  refer 
you  to  the  inimitable  Roman,  Flaccus— 

*  Virtus,  recludens  immeritis  mori 
Ccelum  negata  temptat  iter  via, 
Coetusque  vulgares  et  udam 
Spernit  humum  fugiente  penna.* 

—you  have  the  Latin,  sir  ?  " 

"Not  a  word."  He  subsided  upon  the  pile  of  rugs 
and  spread  out  his  hands  in  protest.  "  I  tak'  ye  to  wit- 
ness, Mr.  Byfield!  " 

"  Then  in  a  minute  or  so  I  will  do  myself  the  plea- 
sure of  construing,"  said  I,  and  turned  to  scan  the  earth 
we  were  leaving— I  had  not  guessed  how  rapidly. 

We  contemplated  it  from  the  height  of  six  hundred 
feet— or  so  Byfield  asserted  after  consulting  his  barom- 
eter. He  added  that  this  was  a  mere  nothing:  the 
wonder  was  the  balloon  had  risen  at  all  with  one-half 
of  the  total  folly  of  Edinburgh  clinging  to  the  car.  I 
passed  the  possible  inaccuracy  and  certain  ill-temper  of 
this  calculation.  He  had  (he  explained)  made  jettison 
of  at  least  a  hundredweight  of  sand  ballast.  I  could 
only  hope  it  had  fallen  on  my  cousin.  To  me,  six  hun- 
dred feet  appeared  a  very  respectable  eminence.  And 
the  view  was  ravishing. 

The  Lunardi,  mounting  through  a  stagnant  calm  in  a 
line  almost  vertical,  had  pierced  the  morning  mists,  and 
now  swam  emancipated  in  a  heaven  of  exquisite  blue. 
Below  us,  by  some  trick  of  eyesight,  the  country  had 
grown  concave,  its  horizons  curving  up  like  the  rim  of 

410 


"THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

a  shallow  bowl— a  bowl  heaped,  in  point  of  fact,  with 
sea-fog,  but  to  our  eyes  with  a  froth  delicate  and  daz- 
zling as  a  whipped  syllabub  of  snow.  Upon  it  the 
travelling  shadow  of  the  balloon  became  no  shadow  but 
a  stain:  an  amethyst  (you  might  call  it)  purged  of  all 
grosser  properties  than  colour  and  lucency.  At  times 
thrilled  by  no  perceptible  wind,  rather  by  the  pulse  of 
the  sun's  rays,  the  froth  shook  and  parted ;  and  then  be- 
hold, deep  in  the  crevasses,  vignetted  and  shining,  an 
acre  or  two  of  the  earth  of  man's  business  and  fret- 
tilled  slopes  of  the  Lothians,  ships  dotted  on  the  Forth, 
the  capital  like  a  hive  that  some  child  had  smoked— the 
ear  of  fancy  could  almost  hear  it  buzzing. 

I  snatched  the  glass  from  Byfield,  and  brought  it  to 
focus  upon  one  of  these  peepshow  rifts :  and  lo !  at  the 
foot  of  the  shaft,  imaged,  as  it  were,  far  down  in  a 
luminous  well,  a  green  hillside  and  three  figures  stand- 
ing. A  white  speck  fluttered;  and  fluttered  until  the 
rift  closed  again.  Flora's  handkerchief!  Blessings  on 
the  brave  hand  that  waved  it!— at  a  moment  when  (as 
I  have  since  heard  and  knew  without  need  of  hearing) 
her  heart  was  down  in  her  shoes,  or,  to  speak  accurately, 
in  the  milkmaid  Janet's.  Singular  in  many  things,  she 
was  at  one  with  the  rest  of  her  sex  in  its  native  and  in- 
curable distrust  of  man's  inventions. 

I  am  bound  to  say  that  my  own  faith  in  aerostatics 
was  a  plant— a  sensitive  plant— of  extremely  tender 
growth.  Either  I  failed,  a  while  back,  in  painting  the 
emotions  'of  my  descent  of  the  Devil's  Elbow,  or  the 
reader  knows  that  I  am  a  chicken-hearted  fellow  about 
a  height.  I  make  him  a  present  of  the  admission.  Set 
me  on  a  plane  superficies,  and  I  will  jog  with  all  the  in- 

411 


ST.  IVES 

souciance  of  a  rolling  stone;  toss  me  in  air,  and,  with 
the  stone  in  the  child's  adage,  I  am  in  the  hands  of  the 
devil.  Even  to  the  qualified  instability  of  a  sea-going 
ship  I  have  ever  committed  myself  with  resignation 
rather  than  confidence. 

But  to  my  unspeakable  relief  the  Lunardi  floated  up- 
ward, and  continued  to  float,  almost  without  a  tremor. 
Only  by  reading  the  barometer,  or  by  casting  scraps  of 
paper  overboard,  could  we  tell  that  the  machine  moved 
at  all.  Now  and  again  we  revolved  slowly :  so  Byfield's 
compass  informed  us,  but  for  ourselves  we  had  never 
guessed  it.  Of  dizziness  I  felt  no  longer  a  symptom, 
for  the  sufficient  reason  that  the  provocatives  were  no- 
where at  hand.  We  were  the  only  point  in  space,  with- 
out possibility  of  comparison  with  another.  We  were 
made  one  with  the  clean  silences  receiving  us;  and 
speaking  only  for  the  Vicomte  Anne  de  Saint-Yves,  I 
dare  assert  that  for  five  minutes  a  newly  bathed  infant 
had  not  been  less  conscious  of  original  sin. 

"  But  look  here,  you  know  "—it  was  Byfield  at  my 
elbow— "I'm  a  public  character,  by  George;  and  this 
puts  me  in  a  devilish  awkward  position." 

"  So  it  does,"  I  agreed.  "  You  proclaimed  yourself  a 
solitary  voyager;  and  here,  to  the  naked  eye,  are  four 
of  us." 

**  And  pray  how  can  I  help  that  ?  If,  at  the  last  mo- 
ment, a  couple  of  lunatics  come  rushing  in—" 

"They  still  leave  Sheepshanks  to  be  accounted  for." 
Byfield  began  to  irritate  me.  I  turned  to  the  stow- 
away. 

"Perhaps,"  said  I,  "Mr.  Sheepshanks  will  explain." 

"I  paid  in  advance,"  Mr.  Sheepshanks  began,  eager 
412 


"THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

to  seize  the  opening  presented.  "The  fact  is,  I'm  a 
married  man." 

"  Already  at  two  points  you  have  the  advantage  of  us. 
Proceed,  sir." 

"  You  were  good  enough,  just  now,  to  give  me  your 
name,  Mr. " 

"  The  Vicomte  Anne  de  Keroual  de  Saint- Yves." 

"  It  is  a  somewhat  difficult  name  to  remember." 

"  If  that  be  all,  sir,  within  two  minutes  you  shall  have 
a  memoria  technica  prepared  for  use  during  the  voyage." 

Mr.  Sheepshanks  harked  back.  "  I  am  a  married  man, 
and— d'ye  see  ?— Mrs.  Sheepshanks,  as  you  might  say, 
has  no  sympathy  with  ballooning.  She  was  a  Guthrie 
of  Dumfries." 

"  Which  accounts  for  it,  to  be  sure,"  said  I. 

"  To  me,  sir,  on  the  contrary,  aerostatics  have  long 

been  an  alluring  study.     I  might  even,  Mr. ,  I  might 

even,  I  say,  term  it  the  passion  of  my  life."  His  mild 
eyes  shone  behind  their  glasses.  "  I  remember  Vincent 
Lunardi,  sir.  I  was  present  in  Heriot's  Gardens  when 
he  made  an  ascension  there  in  October,  '85.  He  came 
down  at  Cupar.  The  Society  of  Gentlemen  Golfers  at 
Cupar  presented  him  with  an  address ;  and  at  Edinburgh 
he  was  admitted  Knight  Companion  of  the  Beggar's 
Benison,  a  social  company,  or  (as  I  may  say)  crew, 
since  defunct.  A  thin-faced  man,  sir.  He  wore  a  pe- 
culiar bonnet,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  very  much 
cocked  up  behind.  The  shape  became  fashionable. 
He  once  pawned  his  watch  with  me,  sir;  that  being 
my  profession.  I  regret  to  say  he  redeemed  it  subse- 
quently:  otherwise  I  might 'have  the  pleasure  of  show- 
ing it  to  you.     O  yes,  the  theory  of  ballooning  has  long 

413 


ST.  IVES 

been  a  passion  with  me.  But  in  deference  to  Mrs. 
Sheepshanks  I  have  abstained  from  the  actual  practice 
—until  to-day.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  my  wife  believes 
me  to  be  brushing  off  the  cobwebs  in  the  Kyles  of  Bute." 

''Are  there  any  cobwebs  in  the  Kyles  of  Bute }  " 
asked  Dalmahoy,  in  a  tone  unnaturally  calm. 

"  A  figure  of  speech,  sir— as  one  might  say,  holiday- 
keeping  there.  I  paid  Mr.  Byfield  five  pounds  in  ad- 
vance. I  have  his  receipt.  And  the  stipulation  was 
that  I  should  be  concealed  in  the  car  and  make  the  as- 
cension with  him  alone." 

"  Are  we  then  to  take  it,  sir,  that  our  company  offends 
you  ?  "  I  demanded. 

He  made  haste  to  disclaim.  "Not  at  all:  decidedly 
not  in  the  least.  But  the  chances  were  for  less  agreeable 
associates."  I  bowed.  "And  a  bargain's  a  bargain," 
he  wound  up. 

"So  it  is,"  said  I.  "Byfield,  hand  Mr.  Sheepshanks 
back  his  five  pounds." 

"  O,  come  now !  "  the  aeronaut  objected.  "  And  who 
may  you  be,  to  be  ordering  a  man  about  ?  " 

"  I  believe  I  have  already  answered  that  question  twice 
in  your  hearing." 

"  Mosha  the  Viscount  Thingamy  de  Something-or- 
other?     I  dare  say!  " 

"  Have  you  any  objection  ?  " 

"Not  the  smallest.  For  all  I  care,  you  are  Robert 
Burns,  or  Napoleon  Buonaparte,  or  anything,  from  the 
Mother  of  the  Gracchi  to  Balaam's  Ass.  But  I  knew 
you  first  as  Mr.  Ducie;  and  you  may  take  it  that  I'm 
Mr.  Don't-see."  He  reached  up  a  hand  towards  the 
valve-string. 

414 


"THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

"  What  are  you  proposing  to  do  ?  " 

"To  descend." 

"  What  ?— back  to  the  enclosure  ?  " 

"  Scarcely  that,  seeing  that  we  have  struck  a  northerly 
current,  and  are  travelling  at  the  rate  of  thirty  miles  an 
hour,  perhaps.  That's  Broad  Law  to  the  south  of  us, 
as  I  make  it  out." 

"  But  why  descend  at  all  ?  " 

"  Because  it  sticks  in  my  head  that  some  one  in  the 
crowd  called  you  by  a  name  that  wasn't  Ducie;  and  by 
a  title,  for  that  matter,  which  didn't  sound  like  *  Vis- 
count.' I  took  it  at  the  time  for  a  constable's  trick;  but 
I  begin  to  have  my  strong  doubts." 

The  fellow  was  dangerous.  I  stooped  nonchalantly, 
on  pretence  of  picking  up  a  plaid ;  for  the  air  had  turned 
bitterly  cold,  of  a  sudden. 

"  Mr.  Byfield,  a  word  in  your  private  ear,  if  you  will." 

"As  you  please,"  said  he,  dropping  the  valve-string. 

We  leaned  together  over  the  breastwork  of  the  car. 
"  If  I  mistake  not,"  I  said,  speaking  low,  "  the  name  was 
Champdivers." 

He  nodded. 

"  The  gentleman  who  raised  that  foolish  but  infer- 
nally risky  cry  was  my  own  cousin,  the  Viscount  de 
Saint-Yves.  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour  to  that." 
Observing  that  this  staggered  him,  I  added,  mighty 
slyly,  "  I  suppose  it  doesn't  occur  to  you  now  that  the 
whole  affair  was  a  game,  for  a  friendly  wager  ?  " 

"  No, "  he  answered  brutally,  "  it  doesn't.  And  what's 
more,  it  won't  go  down." 

"In  that  respect,"  said  I,  with  a  sudden  change  of 
key,  "  it  resembles  your  balloon.     But  I  admire  the  ob- 

415 


ST.  IVES 

stinacy  of  your  suspicions;  since,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
am  Champdivers." 

"The  mur— " 

"  Certainly  not.     I  killed  the  man  in  fair  duel." 

"Ha!  "  He  eyed  me  with  sour  distrust.  "That  is 
what  you  have  to  prove." 

"  Man  alive,  you  don't  expect  me  to  demonstrate  it  up 
here,  by  the  simple  apparatus  of  ballooning!  " 

"  There  is  no  talk  of  *  up  here,'  "  said  he,  and  reached 
for  the  valve-string. 

"  Say  '  down  there,'  then.  Down  there  it  is  no  busi- 
ness of  the  accused  to  prove  his  innocence.  By  what  I 
have  heard  of  the  law,  English  or  Scotch,  the  boot  is  on 
the  other  leg.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  I  can  prove.  I  can 
prove,  sir,  that  I  have  been  a  deal  in  your  company  of 
late;  that  I  supped  with  you  and  Mr.  Dalmahoy  no 
longer  ago  than  Wednesday.  You  may  put  it  that  we 
three  are  here  together  again  by  accident;  that  you 
never  suspected  me;  that  my  invasion  of  your  machine 
was  a  complete  surprise  to  you,  and,  so  far  as  you 
were  concerned,  wholly  fortuitous.  But  ask  yourself 
what  any  intelligent  jury  is  likely  to  make  of  that  cock- 
and-bull  story. "  Mr.  Byfield  was  visibly  shaken.  "  Add 
to  this,"  I  proceeded,  "that  you  have  to  explain  Sheep>- 
shanks ;  to  confess  that  you  gulled  the  public  by  adver- 
tising a  lonely  ascension,  and  haranguing  a  befooled 
multitude  to  the  same  intent,  when,  all  the  time,  you 
had  a  companion  concealed  in  the  car.  '  A  public  char- 
acter' you  call  yourself!  My  word,  sir!  there'll  be  no 
mistake  about  it,  this  time." 

I  paused,  took  breath,  and  shook  a  finger  at  him:  — 

"  Now  just  you  listen  to  me,  Mr.  Byfield.  Pull  that 
416 


"THE   INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

String,  and  a  sadly  discredited  aeronaut  descends  upon 
the  least  charitable  of  worlds.  Why,  sir,  in  any  case 
your  game  in  Edinburgh  is  up.  The  public  is  dog-tired 
of  you  and  your  ascensions,  as  any  observant  child  in 
to-day's  crowd  could  have  told  you.  The  truth  was 
there  staring  you  in  the  face ;  and  next  time  even  your 
purblind  vanity  must  recognise  it.  Consider;  I  offered 
you  two  hundred  guineas  for  the  convenience  of  your 
balloon.  I  now  double  that  offer  on  condition  that  I  be- 
come its  owner  during  this  trip,  and  that  you  manipu- 
late it  as  I  wish.  Here  are  the  notes ;  and  out  of  the 
total  you  will  refund  five  pounds  to  Mr.  Sheepshanks.'' 

Byfield's  complexion  had  grown  streaky  as  his  balloon ; 
and  with  colours  not  so  very  dissimilar.  I  had  stabbed 
upon  his  vital  self-conceit,  and  the  man  was  really  hurt. 

"  You  must  give  me  time,"  he  stammered. 

"  By  all  means."  I  knew  he  was  beaten.  But  only 
the  poorness  of  my  case  excused  me,  and  I J  had  no 
affection  for  the  weapons  used.  I  turned  with  relief  to 
the  others.  Dalmahoy  was  seated  on  the  floor  of  the 
car,  and  helping  Mr.  Sheepshanks  to  unpack  a  carpet 
bag. 

''This  will  be  whiskey,"  the  little  pawnbroker  an- 
nounced :  "  three  bottles.  My  wife  said,  '  Surely,  Elsh- 
ander,  ye'll  find  whiskey  where  ye' re  gaun.'  '  No  doubt 
I  will,'  said  1,  '  but  I'm  not  very  confident  of  its  quality; 
and  it's  a  far  step.'  My  itinerary,  Mr.  Dalmahoy,  was 
planned  from  Greenock  to  the  Kyles  of  Bute  and  back, 
and  thence  coastwise  to  Saltcoats  and  the  land  of  Burns. 
I  told  her,  if  she  had  anything  to  communicate,  to  ad- 
dress her  letter  to  the  care  of  the  postmaster,  Ayr,— ha, 
ha!  "    He  broke  off  and  gazed  reproachfully  into  Dal- 

417 


ST.  IVES 

niahoy's  impassive  face.  "Ayr— air,"  he  explained: 
"a  little  play  upon  words." 

"  Skye  would  have  been  better,"  suggested  Dalmahoy, 
without  moving  an  eyelid. 

"  Skye  ?  Dear  me— capital,  capital!  Only  you  see," 
he  urged,  "  she  wouldn't  expect  me  to  be  in  Skye." 

A  minute  later  he  drew  me  aside.  "  Excellent  com- 
pany your  friend  is,  sir:  most  gentlemanly  manners; 
but  at  times,  if  I  may  say  so,  not  very  gleg." 

My  hands  by  this  time  were  numb  with  cold.  We 
had  been  ascending  steadily,  and  Byfield's  English 
thermometer  stood  at  thirteen  degrees.  I  borrowed 
from  the  heap  a  thicker  overcoat,  in  the  pocket  of 
which  I  was  lucky  enough  to  find  a  pair  of  furred 
gloves;  and  leaned  over  for  another  look  below,  still 
with  a  corner  of  my  eye  for  the  aeronaut,  who  stood 
biting  his  nails,  as  far  from  me  as  the  car  allowed. 

The  sea-fog  had  vanished,  and  the  south  of  Scotland 
lay  spread  beneath  us  from  sea  to  sea,  like  a  map  in 
monotint.  Nay,  yonder  was  England,  with  the  Solway 
cleaving  the  coast— a  broad,  bright  spearhead,  slightly 
bent  at  the  tip— and  the  fells  of  Cumberland  beyond, 
mere  hummocks  on  the  horizon ;  all  else  flat  as  a  board 
or  as  the  bottom  of  a  saucer.  White  threads  of  high- 
road connected  town  to  town :  the  intervening  hills  had 
fallen  down,  and  the  towns,  as  if  in  fright,  had  shrunk 
into  themselves,  contracting  their  suburbs  as  a  snail  his 
horns.  The  old  poet  was  right  who  said  that  the  Olym- 
pians had  a  delicate  view.  The  lace-makers  of  Valen- 
ciennes might  have  had  the  tracing  of  those  towns  and 
highroads;  those  knots  of  guipure  and  ligatures  of 
finest  r^seaU'V^oxk.     And  when  I  considered  that  what 

418 


"THE   INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

I  looked  down  on— this,  with  its  arteries  and  nodules 
of  public  traffic— was  a  nation ;  that  each  silent  nodule 
held  some  thousands  of  men,  each  man  moderately 
ready  to  die  in  defence  of  his  shopboard  and  hen-roost; 
it  came  into  my  mind  that  my  Emperor's  emblem  was 
the  bee,  and  this  Britain  the  spider's  web,  sure  enough. 

Byfield  came  across  and  stood  at  my  elbow. 

"  Mr.  Ducie,  I  have  considered  your  offer,  and  accept 
it.     It's  a  curst  position—" 

"  For  a  public  character,"  I  put  in  affably. 

"  Don't,  sir!  I  beg  that  you  don't.  Your  words  just 
now  made  me  suffer  a  good  deal :  the  more,  that  I  per- 
ceive a  part  of  them  to  be  true.  An  aeronaut,  sir,  has 
ambition— how  can  he  help  it  ?  The  public,  the  news- 
papers, feed  it  for  a  while;  they  fete,  and  flatter,  and 
applaud  him.  But  in  its  heart  the  public  ranks  him 
with  the  mountebank,  and  reserves  the  right  to  drop 
him  when  tired  of  his  tricks.  Is  it  wonderful  that  he 
forgets  this  sometimes  ?  For  in  his  own  thoughts  he 
is  not  a  mountebank— no,  by  God,  he  is  not!  " 

The  man  spoke  with  genuine  passion.  I  held  out  my 
hand. 

"  Mr.  Byfield,  my  words  were  brutal.  I  beg  you  will 
allow  me  to  take  them  back." 

He  shook  his  head.  "They  were  true,  sir;  partly 
true,  that  is." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure.  A  balloon,  as  you  hint  and  I 
begin  to  discover,  may  alter  the  perspective  of  man's 
ambitions.  Here  are  the  notes ;  and  on  the  top  of  them 
I  give  you  my  word  that  you  are  not  abetting  a  crimi- 
nal. How  long  should  the  Lunardi  be  able  to  maintain 
itself  in  the  air  ?  " 

419 


ST.  IVES 

"  I  have  never  tried  it ;  but  I  calculate  on  twenty  hours 
—say  twenty-four  at  a  pinch." 

"  We  will  test  it.  The  current,  I  see,  is  still  north- 
east, or  from  that  to  north-by-east.     And  our  height  ?  " 

He  consulted  the  barometer.  "  Something  under 
three  miles." 

Dalmahoy  heard,  and  whooped.  "Hi!  you  fellows, 
come  to  lunch!  Sandwiches,  shortbread,  and  cleanest 
Glenlivet— Elshander's  Feast:  — 

'  Let  old  Timotheus  yield  the  prize, 
Or  both  divide  the  crown ; 
He  raised  a  mortal  to  the  skies—' 

Sheepshanks  provided  the  whiskey.  Rise,  Elshander: 
observe  that  you  have  no  worlds  left  to  conquer,  and 
having  shed  the  perfunctory  tear,  pass  the  corkscrew. 
Come  along,  Ducie:  come,  my  Daedalian  boy ;  if  you  are 
not  hungry,  I  am,  and  so  is— Sheepshanks— what  the 
dickens  do  you  mean  by  consorting  with  a  singular 
verb  ?  Verbum  cum  nominativo—\  should  say,  so  are 
sheepshanks." 

Byfield  produced  from  one  of  the  lockers  a  pork  pie 
and  a  bottle  of  sherry  (the  viaticum  in  choice  and  as- 
sortment almost  explained  the  man),  and  we  sat  down 
to  the  repast.  Dalmahoy's  tongue  ran  like  a  brook. 
He  addressed  Mr.  Sheepshanks  with  light-hearted  im- 
partiality as  Philip's  royal  son,  as  the  Man  of  Ross,  as 
the  divine  Clarinda.  He  elected  him  Professor  of  Mar- 
ital Diplomacy  to  the  University  of  Cramond.  He 
passed  the  bottle  and  called  on  him  for  a  toast,  a  song, 
—"Oblige  me.  Sheepshanks,  by  making  the  welkin 
ring."    Mr.  Sheepshanks  beamed,  and  gave  us  a  senti- 

420 


"THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

ment  instead.  The  little  man  was  enjoying  himself 
amazingly.  "  Fund  of  spirits  your  friend  has,  to  be 
sure,  sir— quite  a  fund." 

Either  my  own  spirits  were  running  low  or  the  bitter 
cold  had  congealed  them.  I  was  conscious  of  my  thin 
ball  suit,  and  moreover  of  a  masterful  desire  of  sleep. 
I  felt  no  inclination  for  food,  but  drained  half  a  tum- 
blerful of  the  Sheepshanks  whiskey,  and  crawled  be- 
neath the  pile  of  plaids.  Byfield  considerately  helped 
to  arrange  them.  He  may  or  may  not  have  caught 
some  accent  of  uncertainty  in  my  thanks:  at  any  rate 
he  thought  fit  to  add  the  assurance,  "You  may  trust 
me,  Mr.  Ducie."  I  saw  that  I  could,  and  began  almost 
to  like  the  fellow. 

In  this  posture  I  dozed  through  the  afternoon.  In 
dreams  I  heard  Dalmahoy  and  Sheepshanks  lifting  their 
voices  in  amoebsean  song,  and  became  languidly  aware 
that  they  were  growing  uproarious.  I  heard  Byfield 
expostulating,  apparently  in  vain ;  for  I  awoke  next  to 
find  that  Sheepshanks  had  stumbled  over  me  while  illus- 
trating, with  an  empty  bottle,  the  motions  of  tossing 
the  caber.  "  Old  Hieland  sports,"  explained  Dalmahoy, 
wiping  tears  of  vain  laughter:  "  his  mother's  uncle  was 
out  in  the  Forty-five.  Sorry  to  wake  you,  Ducie:  ba- 
low,  my  babe!  "  It  did  not  occur  to  me  to  smoke  dan- 
ger in  this  tomfoolery.     I  turned  over  and  dozed  again. 

It  seemed  but  a  minute  later  that  a  buzzing  in  my 
ears  awoke  me ;  with  a  stab  of  pain  as  though  my  tem- 
ples were  being  split  with  a  wedge.  On  the  instant  I 
heard  my  name  cried  aloud,  and  sat  up ;  to  find  myself 
blinking  in  a  broad  flood  of  moonlight  over  against  the 
agitated  face  of  Dalmahoy. 

421 


ST.  IVES 

"Byfield-"  I  began. 

Dalmahoy  pointed.  The  aeronaut  lay  at  my  feet, 
collapsed  like  some  monstrous  marionette,  with  legs 
and  arms  a-splay.  Across  his  legs,  with  head  propped 
against  a  locker,  reclined  Sheepshanks,  and  gazed  up- 
ward with  an  approving  smile.  "  Awkward  business," 
explained  Dalmahoy,  between  gasps.  "  Sheepshanks 
'nmanageable;  can't  carry  his  liquor  like  a  gentleman: 
thought  it  funny  'pitch  out  ballast.  Byfield  lost  his  tem- 
per: worst  thing  in  the  world.  One  thing  I  pride  my- 
self, 'menable  to  reason.  No  holding  Sheepshanks: 
Byfield  got  him  down ;  too  late ;  faint  both  of  us.  Sheep- 
shanks wants  ring  for  'shistance:  pulls  string:  breaks. 
When  string  breaks  Lunardi  won't  fall— tha's  the  devil 
of  it." 

"  With  my  tol-de-rol,"  Mr.  Sheepshanks  murmured. 
"Pretty— very  pretty." 

I  cast  a  look  aloft.  The  Lunardi  was  transformed : 
every  inch  of  it  frosted  as  with  silver.  All  the  ropes 
and  cords  ran  with  silver  too,  or  liquid  mercury.  And 
in  the  midst  of  this  sparkling  cage,  a  little  below  the 
hoop,  and  five  feet  at  least  above  reach,  dangled  the 
broken  valve-string. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  you  have  made  a  handsome  mess  of 
it!  Pass  me  the  broken  end,  and  be  good  enough  not 
to  lose  your  head." 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  he  groaned,  pressing  it  between  his 
palms.  "  My  dear  sir,  I'm  not  frightened,  if  that  is  your 
meaning." 

I  was,  and  horribly.  But  the  thing  had  to  be  done. 
The  reader  will  perhaps  forgive  me  for  touching  shyly 
on  the  next  two  or  three  minutes,  which  still  recur  on 

422 


"THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

the  smallest  provocation  and  play  bogey  with  my 
dreams.  To  balance  on  the  edge  of  night,  quaking, 
gripping  a  frozen  rope;  to  climb  and  feel  the  pit  of  one's 
stomach  slipping  like  a  bucket  in  a  fathomless  well— I 
suppose  the  intolerable  pains  in  my  head  spurred  me  to 
the  attempt— these  and  the  urgent  shortness  of  my 
breathing— much  as  toothache  will  drive  a  man  up  to 
the  dentist's  chair.  I  knotted  the  broken  ends  of  the 
valve-string  and  slid  back  into  the  car:  then  tugged 
the  valve  open,  while  with  my  disengaged  arm  I  wiped 
the  sweat  from  my  forehead.  It  froze  upon  the  coat- 
cufif. 

In  a  minute  or  so  the  drumming  in  my  ears  grew  less 
violent.  Dalmahoy  bent  over  the  aeronaut,  who  was 
bleeding  at  the  nose  and  now  began  to  breathe  sterto- 
rously.  Sheepshanks  had  fallen  into  placid  slumber. 
I  kept  the  valve  open  until  we  descended  into  a  stratum 
of  fog— from  which,  no  doubt,  the  Lunar di  had  lately 
risen :  the  moisture  collected  here  would  account  for  its 
congelated  coat  of  silver.  By-and-bye,  still  without 
rising,  we  were  quit  of  the  fog,  and  the  moon  swept 
the  hollow  beneath  us,  rescuing  solitary  scraps  and 
sheets  of  water  and  letting  them  slip  again  like  impre- 
hensible  ghosts.  Small  fiery  eyes  opened  and  shut  on 
us;  cressets  of  flame  on  factory  chimneys,  more  and 
more  frequent.  I  studied  the  compass.  Our  course 
lay  south-by-west.  But  our  whereabouts  }  Dalmahoy, 
being  appealed  to,  suggested  Glasgow :  and  thencefor- 
ward I  let  him  alone.     Byfield  snored  on. 

I  pulled  out  my  watch,  which  I  had  forgotten  to 
wind;  and  found  it  run  down.  The  hands  stood  at 
twenty  minutes  past  four.     Daylight,  then,  could  not 

423 


ST.  IVES 

be  far  off.  Eighteen  hours—say  twenty:  and  Byfield 
had  guessed  our  rate  at  one  time  to  be  thirty  miles  an 
hour.     Five  hundred  miles— 

A  line  of  silver  ahead :  a  ribbon  drawn  taut  across  the 
night,  clean-edged,  broadening— the  sea !  In  a  minute  or 
two  I  caught  the  murmur  of  the  coast.  "  Five  hundred 
miles,"  1  began  to  reckon  again,  and  a  holy  calm  dawned 
on  me  as  the  Lunar di  swept  high  over  the  fringing  surf, 
and  its  voice  faded  back  with  the  glimmer  of  a  white- 
washed fishing-haven. 

I  roused  Dalmahoy  and  pointed.     "The seal  " 

"  Looks  like  it.     Which,  I  wonder  ?  " 

"The  English  Channel,  man." 

"  I  say— are  you  sure  }  " 

"  Eh  ?  "  exclaimed  Byfield,  waking  up  and  coming 
forward  with  a  stagger. 

"The  English  Channel." 

"  The  French  fiddlestick,"  said  he,  with  equal  prompt- 
ness. 

"  O,  have  it  as  you  please  I  "  I  retorted.  It  was  not 
worth  arguing  with  the  man. 

"  What  is  the  hour  ?  " 

I  told  him  that  my  watch  had  run  down.  His  had 
done  the  same.  Dalmahoy  did  not  carry  one.  We 
searched  the  still  prostrate  Sheepshanks :  his  had  stopped 
at  ten  minutes  to  four.  Byfield  replaced  it  and  under- 
lined his  disgust  with  a  kick. 

"  A  nice  lot!  "  he  ejaculated.  "  I  owe  you  my  thanks, 
Mr.  Ducie,  all  the  same.  It  was  touch  and  go  with  us, 
and  my  head's  none  the  better  for  it." 

"But  I  say,"  expostulated  Dalmahoy.  "France! 
This  is  getting  past  a  joke." 

424 


"THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

"So  you  are  really  beginning  to  discover  that,  are 
you  ?  " 

Byfield  stood,  holding  by  a  rope,  and  studied  the 
darkness  ahead.  Beside  him  I  hugged  my  conviction- 
hour  after  hour,  it  seemed:  and  still  the  dawn  did  not 
come. 

He  turned  at  length. 

"  I  see  a  coast  line  to  the  south  of  us.  This  will  be 
the  Bristol  Channel:  and  the  balloon  is  sinking.  Pitch 
out  some  ballast,  if  these  idiots  have  left  any." 

I  found  a  couple  of  sand-bags  and  emptied  them  over- 
board. The  coast,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  was  close  at 
hand.  But  the  Lunardi  rose  in  time  to  clear  the  cliff 
barrier  by  some  hundreds  of  feet.  A  wild  sea  ran  on 
it:  of  its  surf,  as  of  a  grey  and  agonising  face,  we 
caught  one  glimpse  as  we  hurled  high  and  clear  over  the 
roar:  and,  a  minute  later,  to  our  infinite  dismay  were 
actually  skimming  the  surface  of  a  black  hillside. 
"  Hold  on!  "  screamed  Byfield,  and  I  had  barely  time  to 
tighten  my  grip  when— crash!  the  car  struck  the  turf 
and  pitched  us  together  in  a  heap  on  the  floor.  Bump! 
the  next  blow  shook  us  like  peas  in  a  bladder.  I  drew 
my  legs  up  and  waited  for  the  third. 

None  came.  The  car  gyrated  madly  and  swung 
slowly  back  to  equilibrium.  We  picked  ourselves  up, 
tossed  rugs,  coats,  instruments,  promiscuously  over- 
board, and  mounted  again.  The  chine  of  the  tall  hill, 
our  stumbling-block,  fell  back  and  was  lost,  and  we 
swept  forward  into  formless  shadow. 

"  Confound  it!  "  said  Byfield,  "the  land  can't  be  un- 
inhabited! " 

It  was,  for  aught  we  could  see.  Not  a  light  showed 
425 


ST.  IVES 

anywhere;  and  to  make  things  worse  the  moon  had 
abandoned  us.  For  one  good  hour  we  swept  through 
chaos  to  the  tuneless  lamentations  of  Sheepshanks,  who 
declared  that  his  collar-bone  was  broken. 

Then  Dalmahoy  flung  a  hand  upward.  Night  lay 
like  a  sack  around  and  below  us:  but  right  aloft,  at 
the  zenith,  day  was  trembling.  Slowly  established,  it 
spread  and  descended  upon  us  until  it  touched  a  distant 
verge  of  hills,  and  there,  cut  by  the  rim  of  the  rising 
sun,  flowed  suddenly  with  streams  of  crimson. 

"Over  with  the  grapnel!"  Byfield  sprang  to  the 
valve-string  and  pulled ;  and  the  featureless  earth  rushed 
up  towards  us. 

The  sunlight  through  which  we  were  falling  had  not 
touched  it  yet.  It  leaped  on  us,  drenched  in  shadow, 
like  some  incalculable  beast  from  its  covert:  a  land 
shaggy  with  woods  and  coppices.  Between  the  woods 
a  desolate  river  glimmered.  A  colony  of  herons  rose 
from  the  tree-tops  beneath  us  and  flew  squawking  for 
the  farther  shore. 

"This  won't  do,"  said  Byfield,  and  shut  the  escape. 
"We  must  win  clear  of  these  woods.  Hullo!"  Ahead 
of  us  the  river  widened  abruptly  into  a  shining  estuary, 
populous  with  anchored  shipping.  Tall  hills  flanked  it, 
and  in  the  curve  of  the  westernmost  hill  a  grey  town 
rose  from  the  waterside :  its  terraces  climbing,  tier  upon 
tier,  like  seats  in  an  amphitheatre;  its  chimneys  lifting 
their  smoke  over  against  the  dawn.  The  tiers  curved 
away  southward  to  a  round  castle  and  a  spit  of  rock, 
off  which  a  brig  under  white  canvas  stood  out  for  the 
line  of  the  open  sea. 

We  swept  across  the  roadstead  towards  the  town, 
426 


"THE   INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

trailing  our  grapnel  as  it  were  a  hooked  fish,  a  bare 
hundred  feet  above  the  water.  Faces  stared  up  at  us 
from  the  ships'  decks.  The  crew  of  one  lowered  a  boat 
to  pursue;  we  were  half  a  mile  away  before  it  touched 
the  water.  Should  we  clear  the  town  ?  At  Byfield's 
orders  we  stripped  off  our  overcoats  and  stood  ready  to 
lighten  ship :  but  seeing  that  the  deflected  wind  in  the 
estuary  was  carrying  us  towards  the  suburbs  and  the 
harbour's  mouth,  he  changed  his  mind. 

"  It  is  devil  or  deep  sea,"  he  announced.  "We  will 
try  the  grapnel.  Look  to  it,  Ducie,  while  I  take  the 
valve !  "  He  pressed  a  clasp-knife  into  my  hand.  "  Cut, 
if  I  give  the  word." 

We  descended  a  few  feet.  We  were  skimming  the 
ridge.  The  grapnel  touched,  and,  in  the  time  it  takes 
you  to  wink,  had  ploughed  through  a  kitchen  garden, 
uprooting  a  regiment  of  currant  bushes;  had  leaped 
clear,  and  was  caught  in  the  eaves  of  a  wooden  out- 
house, fetching  us  up  with  a  dislocating  shock.  I 
heard  a  rending  noise,  and  picked  myself  up  in  time  to 
see  the  building  collapse  like  a  house  of  cards  and  a  pair 
of  demented  pigs  emerge  from  the  ruins  and  plunge 
across  the  garden  beds.  And  with  that  I  was  pitched 
off  my  feet  again  as  the  hook  caught  in  an  iron  chevaux- 
de-frise,  and  held  fast. 

"  Hold  tight!  "  shouted  Byfield,  as  the  car  lurched  and 
struggled,  careening  desperately.  "Don't  cut,  man! 
What  the  devil!" 

Our  rope  had  tautened  over  the  coping  of  a  high  stone 
wall;  and  the  straining  Lunardt—a.  very  large  and  hand- 
some blossom,  bending  on  a  very  thin  stalk— overhung 
a  gravelled  yard;  and  lo!  from  the  centre  of  it  stared 

427 


ST.  IVES 

Up  at  us,  rigid  with  amazement,  the  faces  of  a  squad  of 
British  red-coats! 

I  believe  that  the  first  glimpse  of  that  abhorred  uni- 
form brought  my  knife  down  upon  the  rope.  In  two 
seconds  I  had  slashed  through  the  strands,  and  the 
flaccid  machine  lifted  and  bore  us  from  their  ken.  But 
I  see  their  faces  yet,  as  in  basso-rilievo:  round-eyed, 
open-mouthed ;  honest  country  faces,  and  boyish,  every 
one;  an  awkward  squad  of  recruits  at  drill,  fronting  a 
red-headed  sergeant ;  the  sergeant,  with  cane  held  hor- 
izontally across  and  behind  his  thighs,  his  face  upturned 
with  the  rest,  and  "  Irishman  "  on  every  feature  of  it. 
And  so  the  vision  fleeted,  and  Byfield's  language  claimed 
attention.  The  man  took  the  whole  vocabulary  of 
British  profanity  at  a  rush,  and  swore  himself  to  a  stand- 
still.    As  he  paused  for  second  wind  I  struck  in : 

"  Mr.  Byfield,  you  open  the  wrong  valve.  We  drift, 
as  you  say,  towards— nay,  over  the  open  sea.  As 
master  of  this  balloon,  I  suggest  that  we  descend  within 
reasonable  distance  of  the  brig  yonder;  which,  as  I  make 
out,  is  backing  her  sails ;  which,  again,  can  only  mean 
that  she  observes  us  and  is  preparing  to  lower  a  boat." 

He  saw  the  sense  of  this,  and  turned  to  business, 
though  with  a  snarl.  As  a  gull  from  the  cliff,  the  Lu- 
nardi  slanted  downward,  and  passing  the  brig  by  less 
than  a  cable's  length  to  leeward,  soused  into  the  sea. 

I  say  "  soused  " :  for  I  confess  that  the  shock  belied 
the  promise  of  our  easy  descent.  The  Lunar di  floated : 
but  it  also  drove  before  the  wind.  And  as  it  dragged 
the  car  after  it  like  a  tilted  pail,  the  four  drenched  and 
blinded  aeronauts  struggled  through  the  spray  and 
gripped  the  hoop,  the  netting— nay,  dug  their  nails  into 

428 


"THE  INCOMPLETE  AERONAUTS" 

the  oiled  silk.  In  its  new  element  the  machine  became 
inspired  with  a  sudden  infernal  malice.  It  sank  like  a 
pillow  if  we  tried  to  climb  it:  it  rolled  us  over  in  the 
brine ;  it  allowed  us  no  moment  for  a  backward  glance. 
I  spied  a  small  cutter-rigged  craft  tacking  towards  us,  a 
mile  and  more  to  leeward,  and  wondered  if  the  captain 
of  the  brig  had  left  our  rescue  to  it.  He  had  not.  I 
heard  a  shout  behind  us ;  a  rattle  of  oars  as  the  bowmen 
shipped  them;  and  a  hand  gripped  my  collar.  So  one 
by  one  we  were  plucked— uncommon  specimens!  — 
from  the  deep ;  rescued  from  what  Mr.  Sheepshanks  a 
minute  later,  as  he  sat  on  a  thwart  and  wiped  his  spec- 
tacles, justly  termed  "  a  predicament,  sir,  as  disconcert- 
ing as  any  my  experience  supplies.** 


429 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

"  But  what  be  us  to  do  with  the  balloon,  sir  ?  "  the 
coxswain  demanded. 

Had  it  been  my  affair,  I  believe  I  should  have  obeyed 
a  ridiculous  impulse  and  begged  them  to  keep  it  for 
their  trouble;  so  weary  was  I  of  the  machine.  Byfield, 
however,  directed  them  to  slit  a  seam  of  the  oiled  silk 
and  cut  away  the  car,  which  was  by  this  time  wholly 
submerged  and  not  to  be  lifted.  At  once  the  Lunardi 
collapsed  and  became  manageable;  and  having  roped  it 
to  a  ring-bolt  astern,  the  crew  fell  to  their  oars. 

My  teeth  were  chattering.  These  operations  of  sal- 
vage had  taken  time,  and  it  took  us  a  further  uncon- 
scionable time  to  cover  the  distance  between  us  and  the 
brig  as  she  lay  hove-to,  her  maintopsail  aback  and  her 
head-sails  drawing. 

"  Feels  like  towing  a  whale,  sir,"  the  oarsman  behind 
me  panted. 

I  whipped  round.  The  voice— yes,  and  the  face- 
were  the  voice  and  face  of  the  seaman  who  sat  and 
steered  us:  the  voice  English,  of  a  sort;  the  face  of  no 
pattern  that  I  recognised  for  English.  The  fellows  were 
as  like  as  two  peas :  as  like  as  the  two  drovers  Sim  and 

430 


CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

Candlish  had  been:  you  might  put  them  both  at  forty; 
grizzled  men,  pursed  about  the  eyes  with  seafaring. 
And  now  that  I  came  to  look,  the  three  rowers  forward, 
though  mere  lads,  repeated  their  elders'  features  and 
build;  the  gaunt  frame,  the  long,  serious  face,  the 
swarthy  complexion  and  meditative  eye— in  short,  Don 
Quixote  of  la  Mancha  at  various  stages  of  growth.  Men 
and  lads,  I  remarked,  wore  silver  earrings. 

I  was  speculating  on  this  likeness  when  we  shipped 
oars  and  fell  alongside  the  brig's  ladder.  At  the  head 
of  it  my  hand  was  taken,  and  I  was  helped  on  deck 
with  ceremony  by  a  tall  man  in  loose  blue  jacket  and 
duck  trousers :  an  old  man,  bent  and  frail ;  by  his  air  of 
dignity,  the  master  of  the  vessel,  and  by  his  features  as 
clearly  the  patriarch  of  the  family.  He  lifted  his  cap 
and  addressed  us  with  a  fine  but  (as  I  now  recall  it) 
somewhat  tired  courtesy. 

"An  awkward  adventure,  gentlemen." 

We  thanked  him  in  proper  form. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  have  been  of  service.  The  pilot- 
cutter  yonder  could  hardly  have  fetched  you  in  less  than 
twenty  minutes.  I  have  signalled  her  alongside,  and 
she  will  convey  you  back  to  Falmouth ;  none  the  worse, 
I  hope,  for  your  wetting." 

"A  convenience,"  said  I,  "of  which  my  friends  will 
gladly  avail  themselves.  For  my  part,  I  do  not  propose 
to  return." 

He  paused,  weighing  my  words ;  obviously  puzzled, 
but  politely  anxious  to  understand.  His  eyes  were 
grey  and  honest,  even  childishly  honest,  but  dulled 
about  the  rim  of  the  iris  and  a  trifle  vacant,  as  though 
the  world  with  its  train  of  affairs  had  passed  beyond  his 

43' 


ST.  IVES 

active  concern.  I  keep  my  own  eyes  about  me  when  I 
travel,  and  have  surprised  just  such  a  look,  before  now, 
behind  the  spectacles  of  very  old  men  who  sit  by  the 
roadside  and  break  stones  for  a  living. 

"  I  fear,  sir,  that  I  do  not  take  you  precisely." 

"Why,"  said  I,  "if  I  may  guess,  this  is  one  of  the 
famous  Falmouth  packets  ?  " 

"  As  to  that,  sir,  you  are  right,  and  yet  wrong.  She 
was  a  packet,  and  (if  I  may  say  it)  a  famous  one."  His 
gaze  travelled  aloft,  and  descending  rested  on  mine 
with  a  sort  of  gentle  resignation.  "  But  the  old  pennon 
is  down,  as  you  see.  At  present  she  sails  on  a  private 
adventure,  and  under  private  commission." 

"  A  privateer  ?  " 

"  You  may  call  it  that." 

"  The  adventure  hits  my  humour  even  more  nicely. 
Accept  me.  Captain " 

"Colenso." 

"Accept  me,  Captain  Colenso,  for  your  passenger:  I 
will  not  say  comrade-in-arms— naval  warfare  being  so 
far  beyond  my  knowledge,  which  it  would  perhaps  be 
more  descriptive  to  call  ignorance.  But  I  can  pay—" 
I  thrust  a  hand  nervously  into  my  breast  pocket,  and 
blessed  Flora  for  her  waterproof  bag.  "  Excuse  me, 
captain,  if  I  speak  with  my  friend  here  in  private  for  a 
moment." 

I  drew  Byfield  aside.    "Your  notes  ?   The  salt  water—" 

"  You  see,"  said  he,  "  I  am  a  martyr  to  acidity  of  the 
stomach." 

"  Man!  do  I  invite  the  confidence  of  your  stomach  ?  " 

"  Consequently  I  never  make  an  ascension  unaccom- 
panied by  a  small  bottle  of  Epsom  salts,  tightly  corked." 

433 


CAPTAIN  COLENSO 

"  And  you  threw  away  the  salts  and  substituted  the 
notes  ?— that  was  clever  of  you,  Byfield." 

I  lifted  my  voice.  "  And  Mr.  Dalmahoy,  I  presume, 
returns  to  his  sorrowing  folk  ?  " 

The  extravagant  cheerfully  corrected  me.  "They 
will  not  sorrow;  but  I  shall  return  to  them.  Of  their 
grudged  pension  I  have  eighteenpence  in  my  pocket. 
But  I  propose  to  travel  with  Sheepshanks,  and  raise  the 
wind  by  showing  his  tricks.  He  shall  toss  the  caber 
from  Land's  End  to  Forthside,  cheered  by  the  plaudits 
of  the  intervening  taverns  and  furthered  by  their 
bounty." 

"  A  progress  which  we  must  try  to  expedite,  if  only 
out  of  regard  for  Mrs.  Sheepshanks."  I  turned  to  Cap- 
tain Colenso  again.  "  Well,  sir,  will  you  accept  me  for 
your  passenger  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  that  you  are  joking,  sir." 

"  And  I  swear  to  you  that  I  am  not." 

He  hesitated;  tottered  to  the  companion,  and  called 
down,  "Susannah!  Susannah!  A  moment  on  deck,  if 
you  please.  One  of  these  gentlemen  wishes  to  ship  as 
passenger." 

A  dark-browed  woman  of  middle  age  thrust  her  head 
above  the  ladder  and  eyed  me.  Even  so  might  a  rumi- 
nating cow  gaze  over  her  hedge  upon  some  posting 
wayfarer. 

"  What's  he  dressed  in  ?  "  she  demanded  abruptly. 

"  Madam,  it  was  intended  for  a  ball  suit." 

"You  will  do  no  dancing  here,  young  man." 

"  My  dear  lady,  I  accept  that  and  every  condition  you 
may  impose.     Whatever  the  discipline  of  the  ship—" 

She  cut  me  short.     "  Have  you  told  him,  father  ?  " 
433 


ST.  IVES 

"  Why,  no.  You  see,  sir,  I  ought  to  tell  you  that 
this  is  not  an  ordinary  voyage." 

"Nor,  for  that  matter,  is  mine." 

"  You  will  be  exposed  to  risks." 

"  In  a  privateer  that  goes  without  saying." 

"The  risk  of  capture." 

"  Naturally :  though  a  brave  captain  will  not  dwell  on 
it."    And  I  bowed. 

"  But  1  do  dwell  on  it,"  he  answered  earnestly,  a  red 
spot  showing  on  either  cheek.  "  I  must  tell  you,  sir, 
that  we  are  very  likely  indeed  to  fall  into  an  enemy's 
hands." 

"Say  certain,"  chimed  in  Susannah. 

"  Yes,  I  will  say  we  are  certain.  I  cannot  in  conscience 
do  less."    He  sought  his  daughter's  eyes.     She  nodded. 

"  O,  damn  your  conscience!  "  thought  I,  my  stomach 
rising  in  contempt  for  this  noble-looking  but  extremely 
faint-hearted  privateersman.  "Come,"  I  said,  rallying 
him,  "  we  fall  in  with  a  Frenchman,  or— let  us  suppose 
—an  American :  that  is  our  object,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  an  American.  That  is  our  object,  to  be 
sure." 

"  Then  I  warrant  we  give  a  good  account  of  ourselves. 
Tut,  tut,  man— an  ex-packet  captain!  " 

I  pulled  up  in  sheer  wonder  at  the  lunacy  of  our  dis- 
pute and  the  side  he  was  forcing  me  to  take.  Here  was 
I  haranguing  a  grey-headed  veteran  on  his  own  quarter- 
deck and  exhorting  him  to  valour!  In  a  flash  I  saw 
myself  befooled,  tricked  into  playing  the  patronising 
amateur,  complacently  posturing  for  the  derision  of  gods 
and  men.  And  Captain  Colenso,  who  aimed  but  to  be 
rid  of  me,  was  laughing  in  his  sleeve,  no  doubt.     In  a 

434 


CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

minute  even  Sheepshanks  would  catch  the  jest.  Now, 
I  do  mortally  hate  to  be  laughed  at:  it  may  be  discipli- 
nary for  most  men,  but  it  turns  me  obstinate. 

Captain  Colenso,  at  any  rate,  dissembled  his  mirth  to 
perfection.  The  look  which  he  shifted  from  me  to 
Susannah  and  back  was  eloquent  of  senile  indecision. 

"  I  cannot  explain  to  you,  sir.  The  consequences— I 
might  mitigate  them  for  you— still  you  must  risk  them." 
He  broke  off  and  appealed  to  me.  "I  would  rather 
you  did  not  insist:  I  would  indeed!  I  must  beg  of 
you,  sir,  not  to  press  it." 

"  But  I  do  press  it,"  I  answered,  stubborn  as  a  mule. 
"  I  tell  you  that  I  am  ready  to  accept  all  risks.  But  if 
you  want  me  to  return  with  my  friends  in  the  cutter, 
you  must  summon  your  crew  to  pitch  me  down  the 
ladder.     And  there's  the  end  on't." 

"Dear,  dear!  Tell  me  at  least,  sir,  that  you  are  an 
unmarried  man." 

"  Up  to  now  I  have  that  misfortune."  I  aimed  a  bow 
at  Mistress  Susannah;  but  that  lady  had  turned  her 
broad  shoulders,  and  it  missed  fire.  "  Which  reminds 
me,"  I  continued,  "to  ask  for  the  favour  of  pen,  ink, 
and  paper.     I  wish  to  send  a  letter  ashore,  to  the  mail." 

She  invited  me  to  follow  her;  and  1  descended  to  the 
main  cabin,  a  spick-and-span  apartment,  where  we 
surprised  two  passably  good-looking  damsels  at  their 
housework,  the  one  polishing  a  mahogany  swing-table, 
the  other  a  brass  door-handle.  They  picked  up  their 
cloths,  dropped  me  a  curtsey  apiece,  and  disappeared  at 
a  word  from  Susannah,  who  bade  me  be  seated  at  the 
swing-table  and  set  writing  materials  before  me.  The 
room  was  lit  by  a  broad  stern-window,  and  lined  along 

435 


ST.  IVES 

two  of  its  sides  with  mahogany  doors  leading,  as  I  sup- 
posed, to  sleeping-cabins:  the  panels— not  to  speak  of 
the  brass  handles  and  finger-plates— shining  so  that  a 
man  might  have  seen  his  face  in  them,  to  shave  by. 
"  But  why  all  these  women,  on  board  a  privateer  ?  " 
thought  I,  as  I  tried  a  quill  on  my  thumb-nail  and  em- 
barked upon  my  first  love-letter. 

"Dearest:  This  line  with  my  devotion  to  tell  you 
that  the  balloon  has  descended  safely,  and  your  Anne 
finds  himself  on  board  .  .   ." 

"  By  the  way,  Miss  Susannah,  what  is  the  name  of 
this  ship  ?  " 

"  She  is  called  the  Lady  Nepean  ;  and  I  am  a  married 
woman  and  the  mother  of  six." 

"I  felicitate  you,  madam."  I  bowed,  and  resumed 
my  writing:  — 

"...  the  Lady  Nepean  packet,  outward  bound  from 
Falmouth  to  .  .  ." 

— "  Excuse  me,  but  where  the  dickens  are  we  bound 
for?" 

"  For  the  coast  of  Massachusetts,  I  believe." 

"  You  believe  ?  " 

She  nodded.  "  Young  man,  if  you'll  take  my  advice, 
you'll  go  back." 

"Madam,"  I  answered,  on  a  sudden  impulse,  "I  am 
an  escaped  French  prisoner."  And  with  that,  having 
tossed  my  cap  over  the  mills  (as  they  say),  I  leaned 
back  in  the  settee,  and  we  regarded  each  other. 

"—escaped,"  I  continued,  still  my  eyes  on  hers, 
436 


CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

"  with  a  trifle  of  money,  but  minus  my  heart.  I  write 
this  to  the  fair  daughter  of  Britain  who  has  it  in  her 
keeping.     And  now  what  have  you  to  say  ?  " 

"Ah,  well,"  she  mused,  "the  Lord's  ways  be  past 
finding  out.     It  may  be  the  easier  for  you." 

Apparently  it  was  the  habit  of  this  ship's  company  to 
speak  in  enigmas.     I  caught  up  my  pen  again :  — 

"...  the  coast  of  Massachusetts,  in  the  United  States 
of  America,  whence  I  hope  to  make  my  way  in  good 
time  to  France.  Though  you  have  news,  dearest,  I  fear 
none  can  reach  me  for  a  while.  Yet,  and  though  you 
have  no  more  to  write  than  '  I  love  you,  Anne,'  write  it, 
and  commit  it  to  Mr.  Robbie,  who  will  forward  it  to 
Mr.  Romaine,  who  in  turn  may  find  a  means  to  get  it 
smuggled  through  to  Paris,  Rue  du  Fouarre,  i6.  It 
should  be  consigned  to  the  widow  Jupille,  *  to  be  called 
for  by  the  corporal  who  praised  her  vin  blanc'  She 
will  remember;  and  in  truth  a  man  who  had  the  courage 
to  praise  it  deserves  remembrance  as  singular  among  the 
levies  of  France.  Should  a  youth  of  the  name  of  Row- 
ley present  himself  before  you,  you  may  trust  his  fidelity 
absolutely,  his  sagacity  not  at  all.  And  so  (since  the 
boat  waits  to  take  this)  I  kiss  the  name  of  Flora,  and 
subscribe  myself— until  I  come  to  claim  her,  and  after- 
wards to  t\.trm\.y—\\QX  prisoner, 

"Anne." 

I  had,  in  fact,  a  second  reason  for  abbreviating  this 
letter  and  sealing  it  in  a  hurry.  The  movements  of  the 
brig,  though  slight,  were  perceptible,  and  in  the  close 
air  of  the  main  cabin  my  head  already  began  to  swim. 
I  hastened  on  deck  in  time  to  shake  hands  with  my 

437 


ST.  IVES 

companions  and  confide  the  letter  to  Byfield  with  in- 
structions for  posting  it.  "  And  if  your  share  in  our 
adventure  should  come  into  public  question,"  said  I, 
"  you  must  apply  to  a  Major  Chevenix,  now  quartered 
in  Edinburgh  Castle,  who  has  a  fair  inkling  of  the  facts, 
and  as  a  man  of  honour  will  not  decline  to  assist  you. 
You  have  Dalmahoy,  too,  to  back  your  assertion  that 
you  knew  me  only  as  Mr.  Ducie."  Upon  Dalmahoy  I 
pressed  a  note  for  his  and  Mr.  Sheepshanks's  travelling 
expenses.  "  My  dear  fellow,"  he  protested,  "  I  couldn't 
dream  .  .  .  if  you  are  sure  it  won't  inconvenience  .  .  . 
merely  as  a  loan  .  .  .  and  deuced  handsome  of  you,  I 
will  say."  He  kept  the  cutter  waiting  while  he  drew 
an  I.  O.  U.,  in  which  1  figured  as  Bursar  and  Almoner 
(honoris  causa)  to  the  Senatus  Academicus  of  Cramond- 
on-Almond.  Mr.  Sheepshanks  meanwhile  shook  hands 
with  me  impressively.  "  It  has  been  a  memorable  ex- 
perience, sir.  I  shall  have  much  to  tell  my  wife  on  my 
return." 

It  occurred  to  me  as  probable  that  the  lady  would  have 
even  more  to  say  to  him.  He  stepped  into  the  cutter, 
and,  as  they  pushed  off,  was  hilariously  bonneted  by 
Mr.  Dalmahoy,  by  way  of  parting  salute.  "  Starboard 
after  braces !  "  Captain  Colenso  called  to  his  crew.  The 
yards  were  trimmed  and  the  Lady  Nepean  slowly  gath- 
ered way,  while  I  stood  by  the  bulwarks  gazing  after 
my  friends  and  attempting  to  persuade  myself  that  the 
fresh  air  was  doing  me  good. 

Captain  Colenso  perceived  my  queasiness,  and  advised 
me  to  seek  my  berth  and  lie  down ;  and  on  my  replying 
with  haggard  defiance,  took  my  arm  gently,  as  if  I  had 
been  a  wilful  child,  and  led  me  below.     I  passed  beyond 

438 


CAPTAIN  COLENSO 

one  of  the  mahogany  doors  leading  from  the  main  cabin ; 
and  in  that  seclusion  I  ask  you  to  leave  me  face  to  face 
with  the  next  forty-eight  hours.    It  was  a  dreadful  time. 

Nor  at  the  end  of  it  did  gaiety  wait  on  a  partially  re- 
covered appetite.  The  ladies  of  the  ship  nursed  me,  and 
tickled  my  palate  with  the  lightest  of  sea  diet.  The 
men  strowed  seats  for  me  on  deck,  and  touched  their 
caps  with  respectful  sympathy.  One  and  all  were  in- 
defatigably  kind,  but  taciturn  to  a  degree  beyond  belief. 
A  fog  of  mystery  hung  and  deepened  about  them  and 
the  Lady  Nepean,  and  I  crept  about  the  deck  in  a  con- 
tinuous evil  dream,  entangling  myself  in  impossible 
theories.  To  begin  with,  there  were  eight  women  on 
board;  a  number  not  to  be  reconciled  with  serious  priva- 
teering ;  all  daughters  or  sons'  wives  or  granddaughters 
of  Captain  Colenso.  Of  the  men— twenty-three  in  all 
—those  who  were  not  called  Colenso  were  called  Pen- 
gelly;  and  most  of  them  convicted  landsmen  by  their 
bilious  countenances  and  unhandy  movements;  men 
fresh  from  the  plough-tail  by  their  gait,  yet  with  no 
ruddy  impress  of  field-work  and  the  open  air. 

Twice  every  day,  and  thrice  on  Sundays,  this  extraor- 
dinary company  gathered  bareheaded  to  the  poop  for 
a  religious  service  which  it  would  be  colourless  to  call 
frantic.  It  began  decorously  enough  with  a  quavering 
exposition  of  some  portion  of  Holy  Writ  by  Captain 
Colenso.  But  by-and-bye  (and  especially  at  the  evening 
office)  his  listeners  kindled  and  opened  on  him  with  a 
skirmishing  fire  of  "  Amens. "  Then,  worked  by  degrees 
to  an  ecstasy,  they  broke  into  cries  of  thanksgiving  and 
mutual  encouragement;  they  jostled  for  the  rostrum 
(a  long  nine-pounder  swivel);  and  then  speaker  after 

439 


ST.  IVES 

speaker  declaimed  his  soul's  experiences  until  his  voice 
cracked,  while  the  others  sobbed,  exhorted,  even  leapt 
in  the  air.  "Stronger,  brother!  "  "'Tis  working,  'tis 
working!  "  "  O  deliverance!  "  "  O  streams  of  redemp- 
tion! "  For  ten  minutes,  or  a  quarter  of  an  hour  may- 
be, the  ship  was  a  Babel,  a  Bedlam.  And  then  the 
tumult  would  die  down  as  suddenly  as  it  had  arisen, 
and  dismissed  by  the  old  man,  the  crew,  with  faces 
once  more  inscrutable,  but  twitching  with  spent  emo- 
tion, scattered  to  their  usual  tasks. 

Five  minutes  after  these  singular  outbreaks  it  was 
difficult  to  believe  in  them.  Captain  Colenso  paced  the 
quarter-deck  once  more  with  his  customary  shuffle,  his 
hands  beneath  his  coat-tails,  his  eyes  conning  the  ship 
with  their  usual  air  of  mild  abstraction.  Now  and  again 
he  paused  to  instruct  one  of  his  incapables  in  the  trim- 
ming of  a  brace,  or  to  correct  the  tie  of  a  knot.  He 
never  scolded;  seldom  lifted  his  voice.  By  his  manner 
of  speech,  and  the  ease  of  his  authority,  he  and  his 
family  might  have  belonged  to  separate  ranks  of  life. 
Yet  I  seemed  to  detect  method  in  their  obedience.  The 
veriest  fumbler  went  about  his  work  with  a  concentrated 
gravity  of  bearing,  as  if  he  fulfilled  a  remoter  purpose, 
and  understood  it  while  he  tied  his  knots  into  "  gran- 
nies," and  generally  mismanaged  the  job  in  hand. 

Towards  the  middle  of  our  second  week  out,  we  fell 
in  with  a  storm— a  rotatory  affair,  and  soon  over  by 
reason  that  we  struck  the  outer  fringe  of  it;  but  to  a 
landsman  sufficiently  daunting  while  it  lasted.  Late  in 
the  afternoon  I  thrust  my  head  up  for  a  look  around. 
We  were  weltering  along  in  horrible  forty-foot  seas, 
over  which  our  bulwarks  tilted  at  times  until  from  the 

440 


CAPTAIN  COLENSO 

companion  hatchway  I  stared  plumb  into  the  grey  slid- 
ing chasms,  and  felt  like  a  fly  on  the  wall.  The  Lady 
Nepean  hurled  her  old  timbers  along  under  close-reefed 
maintopsail,  and  a  rag  of  a  foresail  only.  The  captain 
had  housed  topgallant  masts  and  lashed  his  guns  in- 
board; yet  she  rolled  so  that  you  would  not  have  trusted 
a  cat  on  her  storm-washed  decks.  They  were  desolate 
but  for  the  captain  and  helmsman  on  the  poop;  the 
helmsman,  a  mere  lad— the  one,  in  fact,  who  had  pulled 
the  bow-oar  to  our  rescue— lashed  and  gripping  the 
spokes  pluckily,  but  with  a  white  face  which  told  that, 
though  his  eyes  were  strained  on  the  binnacle,  his  mind 
ran  on  the  infernal  seas  astern.  Over  him,  in  sea-boots 
and  oilskins,  towered  Captain  Colenso— rejuvenated, 
transfigured;  his  body  swaying  easily  to  every  lurch 
and  plunge  of  the  brig,  his  face  entirely  composed  and 
cheerful,  his  salt-rimmed  eyes  contracted  a  little,  but  alert 
and  even  boyishly  bright.     An  heroical  figure  of  a  man ! 

My  heart  warmed  to  Captain  Colenso;  and  next 
morning,  as  we  bowled  forward  with  a  temperate 
breeze  on  our  quarter,  I  took  occasion  to  compliment 
him  on  the  Lady  Nepean' s  behaviour. 

"  Ay,"  said  he  abstractedly;  " the  old  girl  made  pretty 
good  weather  of  it." 

"  I  suppose  we  were  never  in  what  you  would  call 
real  danger  ?  " 

He  faced  me  with  sudden  earnestness.  "  Mr.  Ducie, 
I  have  served  the  Lord  all  my  days,  and  He  will  not 
sink  the  ship  that  carries  my  honour."  Giving  me  no 
time  to  puzzle  over  this,  he  changed  his  tone.  "  You'll 
scarce  believe  it,  but  in  her  young  days  she  had  a  very 
fair  turn  of  speed." 

441 


ST.  IVES 

"  Her  business  surely  demands  it  still,"  said  I.  Only 
an  arrant  landsman  could  have  reconciled  the  lumbering 
old  craft  with  any  idea  of  privateering;  but  this  was 
only  my  theory,  and  I  clung  to  it. 

"  We  shall  not  need  to  test  her." 

"  You  rely  on  your  guns,  then  ?  "  I  had  observed 
the  care  lavished  on  these.  They  were  of  brass,  and 
shone  like  the  door-plates  in  the  main  cabin. 

"  Why,  as  to  that,"  he  answered  evasively,  "  I've  had 
to  before  now.  The  last  voyage  I  commanded  her— it 
was  just  after  the  war  broke  out  with  America— we  fell 
in  with  a  schooner  off  the  Banks;  we  were  outward 
bound  for  Halifax.  She  carried  twelve  nine-poundnr 
carronades  and  two  long  nines,  besides  a  big  fellow  on 
a  traverse;  and  we  had  the  guns  you  see— eight  nine- 
pounders  and  one  chaser  of  the  same  calibre— post-office 
guns,  we  call  them.  But  we  beat  her  off  after  two 
hours  of  it." 

"  And  saved  the  mails  ?  " 

He  rose  abruptly  (we  had  seated  ourselves  on  a 
couple  of  hen-coops  under  the  break  of  the  poop). 
"You  will  excuse  me.  I  have  an  order  to  give";  and 
he  hurried  up  the  steps  to  the  quarter-deck. 

It  must  have  been  ten  days  after  this  that  he  stopped 
me  in  one  of  my  eternal  listless  promenades  and  invited 
me  to  sit  beside  him  again. 

"  I  wish  to  take  your  opinion,  Mr.  Ducie.  You  have 
not,  I  believe,  found  salvation?  You  are  not  one  of 
us,  as  I  may  say  ?  " 

"  Meaning  by  '  us '  ?  " 

"  I  and  mine,  sir,  are  unworthy  followers  of  the 
Word,  as  preached  by  John  Wesley." 

442 


CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

"Why,  no;  that  is  not  my  religion." 

"  But  you  are  a  gentleman  ?  "  I  bowed.  "  And  on 
a  point  of  honour— do  you  think,  sir,  that  as  a  servant 
of  the  King  one  should  obey  his  earthly  master  even  to 
doing  what  conscience  forbids  ?  " 

"That  might  depend—" 

"  But  on  a  point  of  honour,  sir  ?  Suppose  that  you 
had  pledged  your  private  word,  in  a  just,  nay,  a  gener- 
ous bargain,  and  were  commanded  to  break  it.  Is  there 
anything  could  override  that  ?  " 

I  thought  of  my  poor  old  French  colonel  and  his 
broken  parole;  and  was  silent.  "Can  you  not  tell  me 
the  circumstances  ?  "  I  suggested  at  length. 

He  had  been  watching  me  eagerly.  But  he  shook 
his  head  now,  sighed,  and  drew  a  small  Bible  from  his 
pocket.  "  I  am  not  a  gentleman,  sir.  I  laid  it  before 
the  Lord:  but,"  he  continued  naively,  "I  wanted  to 
learn  how  a  gentleman  would  look  at  it."  He  searched 
for  a  text,  turning  the  pages  with  long,  nervous  fingers ; 
but  desisted  with  another  sigh,  and,  a  moment  later, 
was  summoned  away  to  solve  some  difficulty  with  the 
ship's  reckoning. 

My  respect  for  the  captain  had  been  steadily  growing. 
He  was  so  amiable,  too,  so  untiringly  courteous;  he 
bore  his  sorrow— whatever  the  cause  might  be— with 
so  gentle  a  resignation;  that  I  caught  myself  pitying 
even  while  I  cursed  him  and  his  crew  for  their  inhuman 
reticence. 

But  my  respect  vanished  pretty  quickly  next  day. 
We  were  seated  at  dinner  in  the  main  cabin— the  cap- 
tain at  the  head  of  the  table,  and,  as  usual,  crumbling 
his  biscuit  in  a  sort  of  waking  trance— when  Mr.  Reuben 

443 


ST.  IVES 

Colenso,  his  eldest  son  and  acting  mate,  put  his  solemn 
face  in  at  the  door  with  news  of  a  sail  about  four  miles 
distant  on  the  lee  bow.  1  followed  the  captain  on  deck. 
The  stranger,  a  schooner,  had  been  lying-to  when  first 
descried  in  the  hazy  weather;  but  was  standing  now  to 
intercept  us.  At  two  miles'  distance— it  being  then 
about  two  o'clock— I  saw  that  she  hoisted  British 
colours. 

"  But  that  flag  was  never  sewn  in  England,"  Captain 
Colenso  observed,  studying  her  through  his  glass.  His 
cheeks,  usually  of  that  pallid  ivory  colour  proper  to  old 
age,  were  flushed  with  a  faint  carmine,  and  1  observed 
a  suppressed  excitement  in  all  his  crew.  For  my  part, 
I  expected  no  better  than  to  play  target  in  the  coming 
engagement:  but  it  surprised  me  that  he  served  out  no 
cutlasses,  ordered  up  no  powder  from  the  hold,  and,  in 
short,  took  no  single  step  to  clear  the  Lady  Nepean  for 
action  or  put  his  men  in  fighting  trim.  The  most  of 
them  were  gathered  about  the  fore-hatch,  to  the  total 
neglect  of  their  guns,  which  they  had  been  cleaning  as- 
siduously all  the  morning.  On  we  stood  without  shift- 
ing our  course  by  a  point,  and  were  almost  within  range 
when  the  schooner  ran  up  the  stars-and-stripes  and 
plumped  a  round  shot  ahead  of  us  by  way  of  hint. 

I  stared  at  Captain  Colenso.  Could  he  mean  to  sur- 
render without  one  blow  ?  He  had  exchanged  his  glass 
for  a  speaking-trumpet,  and  waited,  fumbling  with  it, 
his  face  twitching  painfully.  A  cold  dishonouring  sus- 
picion gripped  me.  The  man  was  here  to  betray  his 
flag.  I  glanced  aloft:  the  British  ensign  flew  at  the 
peak.  And  as  I  turned  my  head,  I  felt  rather  than  saw 
the  flash,  heard  the  shattering  din  as  the  puzzled  Amer- 

444 


CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

ican  luffed  up  and  let  fly  across  our  bows  with  a  raking 
broadside.  Doubtless  she,  too,  took  note  of  our  defiant 
ensign,  and  leapt  at  the  nearest  guess,  that  we  meant  to 
run  her  aboard. 

Now,  whether  my  glance  awoke  Captain  Colenso,  or 
this  was  left  to  the  all  but  simultaneous  voice  of  the 
guns,  I  know  not.  But  as  their  smoke  rolled  between 
us  I  saw  him  drop  his  trumpet  and  run  with  a  crazed 
face  to  the  taffrail,  where  the  halliards  led.  The  traitor 
had  forgotten  to  haul  down  his  flag! 

It  was  too  late.  While  he  fumbled  with  the  halliards, 
a  storm  of  musketry  burst  and  swept  the  quarter-deck. 
He  flung  up  both  hands,  spun  round  upon  his  heel,  and 
pitched  backward  at  the  helmsman's  feet,  and  the 
loosened  ensign  dropped  slowly  and  fell  across  him,  as 
if  to  cover  his  shame. 

Instantly  the  firing  ceased.  1  stood  there  between 
compassion  and  disgust,  willing  yet  loathing  to  touch 
the  pitiful  corpse,  when  a  woman— Susannah— ran 
screaming  by  me  and  fell  on  her  knees  beside  it.  I  saw 
a  trickle  of  blood  ooze  beneath  the  scarlet  folds  of  the 
flag.  It  crawled  along  the  plank,  hesitated  at  a  seam, 
and  grew  there  to  an  oddly  shaped  pool.  I  watched  it. 
In  shape  I  thought  it  remarkably  like  the  map  of  Ireland. 
And  I  became  aware  that  some  one  was  speaking  to  me, 
and  looked  up  to  find  a  lean  and  lantern-jawed  Ameri- 
can come  aboard  and  standing  at  my  shoulder. 

"  Are  you  anywise  hard  of  hearing,  stranger  ?  Or 
must  I  repeat  to  you  that  this  licks  cockfighting  ?  " 

"  I,  at  any  rate,  am  not  disputing  it,  sir." 

"The  Lady  Nepean,  too!  Is  that  the  cap'n  yonder? 
I  thought  as  much.     Dead,  hey?     Well,  he'd  better 

445 


ST.  IVES 

stay  dead;  though  I'd  have  enjoyed  the  inside  o'  five 
minutes'  talk,  just  to  find  out  what  he  did  it  for." 

"  Did  what  ?  " 

"  Why,  brought  the  Lady  Nepean  into  these  waters, 
and  Commodore  Rodgers  no  farther  away  than  Rhode 
Island,  by  all  accounts.  He  must  have  had  a  nerve. 
And  what  post  might  you  be  holding  on  this  all-fired 
packet.^  Darn  me,  but  you  have  females  enough  on 
board!  "  For  indeed  there  were  three  poor  creatures 
kneeling  now  and  crooning  over  the  dead  captain.  The 
men  had  surrendered— they  had  no  arms  to  fling  down 
—and  were  collected  in  the  waist,  under  guard  of  a 
cordon  of  Yankees.  One  lay  senseless  on  deck,  and 
two  or  three  were  bleeding  from  splinter  wounds ;  for 
the  enemy,  her  freeboard  being  lower  by  a  foot  or  two 
than  the  wall  sides  of  the  Lady  Nepean,  had  done  little 
execution  on  deck,  whatever  the  wounds  in  our  hull 
might  be. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  Captain " 

"  Seccombe,  sir,  is  my  name.  Alpheus  Q.  Seccombe, 
of  the  Manhattan  schooner." 

"  Well,  then.  Captain  Seccombe,  I  am  a  passenger  on 
board  this  ship,  and  know  neither  her  business  here  nor 
why  she  has  behaved  in  a  fashion  that  makes  me  blush 
for  her  flag— which,  by  the  way,  I  have  every  reason  to 
abominate." 

"O,  come  now!  You're  trying  it  on.  It's  a  yard- 
arm  matter,  and  I  don't  blame  you,  to  be  sure.  Cap'n 
sank  the  mails  ?  " 

"  There  were  none  to  sink,  I  believe." 

He  conned  me  curiously. 

"  You  don't  look  like  a  Britisher,  either  ?  " 
446 


CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

"  I  trust  not.  I  am  the  Viscount  Anne  de  Keroual  de 
Saint-Yves,  escaped  from  a  British  war-prison." 

"  Lucky  for  you  if  you  prove  it.  We'll  get  to  the 
bottom  of  this."  He  faced  about  and  called,  "Who's 
the  first  officer  of  this  brig  ?  " 

Reuben  Colenso  was  allowed  to  step  forward.  Blood 
from  a  scalp  wound  had  run  and  caked  on  his  right 
cheek,  but  he  stepped  squarely  enough. 

"  Bring  him  below,"  Captain  Seccombe  commanded. 
"  And  you,  Mr.  What's-your-name,  lead  the  way.  It's 
one  or  the  other  of  us  will  get  the  hang  of  this  affair." 

He  seated  himself  at  the  head  of  the  table  in  the  main 
cabin,  and  spat  ceremoniously  on  the  floor. 

"Now,  sir:  you  are,  or  were,  first  officer  of  this 
brig  ?  " 

The  prisoner,  standing  between  his  two  guards, 
gripped  his  stocking-cap  nervously.  "  Will  you  please 
to  tell  me,  sir,  if  my  father  is  killed  ?  " 

"  Seth,  my  lad,  I  want  room."  One  of  the  guards,  a 
strapping  youngster,  stepped  and  flung  open  a  pane  of 
the  stern  window.  Captain  Seccombe  spat  out  of  it 
with  nonchalant  dexterity  before  answering: 

"  I  guess  he  is.     Brig's  name  ?  " 

'' The  Lady  Nepean." 

"  Mail  packet  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  leastways—" 

"Now  see  here.  Mister  First  Officer  Colenso  junior: 
it's  a  shortish  trip  between  this  and  the  yard-arm,  and 
it  may  save  you  some  su-perfluous  lying  if  1  tell  you 
that  in  August,  last  year,  the  Lady  Nepean  packet,  Cap- 
tain Colenso,  outward  bound  for  Halifax,  met  the  Hitch- 
cock privateer  off  the  Great  Bank  of  Newfoundland,  and 

447 


ST.  IVES 

beat  her  off  after  two  hours'  fighting.  You  were  on 
board  of  her  ?  " 

"  I  tended  the  stern  gun." 

"  Very  good.  The  next  day,  being  still  off  the  Banks, 
she  fell  in  with  Commodore  Rodgers,  of  the  United 
States  frigate  President,  and  surrendered  to  him  right 
away." 

**  We  sank  the  mails." 

"You  did,  my  man.  Notwithstanding  which,  that 
lion-hearted  hero  treated  you  with  the  forbearance  of  a 
true-born  son  of  freedom."  Captain  Seccombe's  voice 
took  an  oratorical  roll.  "  He  saw  that  you  were  bleed- 
ing from  your  fray.  He  fed  you  at  his  hospitable  board ; 
he  would  not  suffer  you  to  be  de-nuded  of  the  least 
trifle.  Nay,  what  did  he  promise?— but  to  send  your 
father  and  his  crew  and  passengers  back  to  England  in 
their  own  ship,  on  their  swearing,  upon  their  sacred 
honour,  that  she  should  return  to  Boston  harbour  with 
an  equal  number  of  American  prisoners  from  England. 
Your  father  swore  to  that  upon  the  Old  and  New  Tes- 
taments, severally  and  conjointly;  and  the  Lady  Nepean 
sailed  home  for  all  the  world  like  a  lamb  from  the  wolf's 
jaws,  with  a  single  American  officer  inside  of  her.  And 
how  did  your  dog-damned  Government  respect  this 
noble  confidence }  In  a  way,  sir,  that  would  have 
brought  a  blush  to  the  cheek  of  a  low-down  attorney's 
clerk.  They  re-pudiated.  Under  shelter  of  a  notifica- 
tion that  no  exchange  of  prisoners  on  the  high  seas 
would  count  as  valid,  this  perjured  tyrant  and  his  myr- 
midons went  back  on  their  captain's  oath,  and  kept  the 
brig;  and  the  American  officer  came  home  empty- 
handed.     Your  father  was  told  to  resume  his  duties, 

448 


CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

immortal  souls  being  cheap  in  a  country  where  they 
press  seamen's  bodies.  And  now,  Mister  First  Officer 
Colenso,  perhaps  you'll  explain  how  he  had  the  impu- 
dence to  come  within  two  hundred  miles  of  a  coast 
where  his  name  smelt  worse  than  vermin." 

"  He  was  coming  back,  sir." 

"  Hey  ?  " 

"  Back  to  Boston,  sir.  You  see,  cap'n,  father  wasn't 
a  rich  man,  but  he  had  saved  a  trifle.  He  didn't  go  back 
to  the  service,  though  told  that  he  might.  It  preyed  on 
his  mind.  We  was  all  very  fond  of  father;  being  all 
one  family,  as  you  might  say,  though  some  of  us  had 
wives  and  families,  and  some  were  over  to  Redruth,  to 
the  mines." 

"Stick  to  the  point." 

"  But  this  is  the  point,  cap'n.  He  was  coming  back, 
you  see.  The  Lady  Nepean  wasn't  fit  for  much  after 
the  handling  she'd  had.  She  was  going  for  twelve 
hundred  pounds :  the  Post-Office  didn't  look  for  more. 
We  got  her  for  eleven  hundred,  with  the  guns,  and  the 
repairs  may  have  cost  a  hundred  and  fifty ;  but  you'll 
find  the  account-books  in  the  cupboard  there.  Father 
had  a  matter  of  five  hundred  laid  by,  and  a  little  over." 

Captain  Seccombe  removed  his  legs  from  the  cabin 
table,  tilted  his  chair  forward,  and  half  rose  in  his  seat. 

"  You  bought  her  }  " 

"That's  what  I'm  telling  you,  sir:  though  father'd 
have  put  it  much  clearer.  You  see,  he  laid  it  before 
the  Lord ;  and  then  he  laid  it  before  all  of  us.  It  preyed 
on  his  mind.  My  sister  Susannah  stood  up  and  she 
said,  *  I  reckon  I'm  the  most  respectably  married  of  all 
of  you,  having  a  farm  of  my  own ;  but  we  can  sell  up, 

449 


ST.  IVES 

and  all  the  world's  a  home  to  them  that  fears  the  Lord. 
We  can't  stock  up  with  American  prisoners,  but  we  can 
go  ourselves  instead;  and  judging  by  the  prisoners  I've 
a-seen  brought  in,  Commodore  Rodgers'll  be  glad  to 
take  us.  What  he  does  to  us  is  the  Lord's  affair.'  That's 
what  she  said,  sir.  Of  course  we  kept  it  quiet:  we  put 
it  about  that  the  Lady  Nepean  was  for  Canada,  and  the 
whole  family  going  out  for  emigrants.  This  here  gen- 
tleman we  picked  up  outside  Falmouth ;  perhaps  he've 
told  you." 

Captain  Seccombe  stared  at  me,  and  I  at  Captain 
Seccombe.     Reuben  Colenso  stood  wringing  his  cap. 

At  length  the  American  found  breath  enough  to 
whistle.  "  I'll  have  to  put  back  to  Boston  about  this, 
though  it's  money  out  of  pocket.  This  here's  a  matter 
for  Commodore  Bainbridge.    Take  a  seat,  Mr.  Colenso." 

"I  was  going  to  ask,"  said  the  prisoner  simply,  "if, 
before  you  put  me  in  irons,  I  might  go  on  deck  and  look 
at  father.     It'll  be  only  a  moment,  sir." 

"  Yes,  sir,  you  may.  And  if  you  can  get  the  ladies 
to  excuse  me,  I  will  follow  in  a  few  minutes.  I  wish 
to  pay  him  my  respects.  It's  my  opinion,"  he  added 
pensively,  as  the  prisoner  left  the  cabin—**  it's  my  opin- 
ion that  the  man's  story  is  genu-wine." 

He  repeated  the  word,  five  minutes  later,  as  we  stood 
on  the  quarter-deck  beside  the  body.  "  A  genu-wine 
man,  sir,  unless  I  am  mistaken." 

Well,  the  question  is  one  for  casuists.  In  my  travels 
I  have  learnt  this,  that  men  are  greater  than  govern- 
ments; wiser  sometimes,  honester  always.  Heaven 
deliver  me  from  any  such  problem  as  killed  this  old 
packet-captain !     Between  loyalty  to  his  King  and  loy- 

450 


CAPTAIN   COLENSO 

alty  to  his  conscience  he  had  to  choose,  and  it  is  likely 
enough  that  he  erred.  But  I  believe  that  he  fought  it 
out,  and  found  on  his  country's  side  a  limit  of  shame 
to  which  he  could  not  stoop.  A  man  so  placed,  per- 
haps, may  even  betray  his  country  to  her  honour.  In 
this  hope  at  least  the  flag  which  he  had  hauled  down 
covered  his  body  still  as  we  committed  it  to  the  sea,  its 
service  or  disservice  done. 

Two  days  later  we  anchored  in  the  great  harbour  at 
Boston,  where  Captain  Seccombe  went  with  his  story 
and  his  prisoners  to  Commodore  Bainbridge,  who  kej)t 
them  pending  news  of  Commodore  Rodgers.  They 
were  sent,  a  few  weeks  later,  to  Newport,  Rhode  Island, 
to  be  interrogated  by  that  commander;  and,  to  the 
honour  of  the  Republic,  were  released  on  a  liberal  pa- 
role; but  whether,  when  the  war  ended,  they  returned 
to  England  or  took  oath  as  American  citizens,  I  have  not 
learnt.  I  was  luckier.  The  commodore  allowed  Cap- 
tain Seccombe  to  detain  me  while  the  French  consul 
made  inquiry  into  my  story;  and  during  the  two  months 
which  the  consul  thought  fit  to  take  over  it,  I  was  a 
guest  in  the  captain's  house.  And  here  I  made  my  bow 
to  Miss  Amelia  Seccombe,  an  accomplished  young  lady, 
"  who,"  said  her  doting  father,  "  has  acquired  a  consid- 
erable proficiency  in  French,  and  will  be  glad  to  swap 
ideas  with  you  in  that  language."  Miss  Seccombe  and 
I  did  not  hold  our  communications  in  French ;  and,  ob- 
serving her  disposition  to  substitute  the  warmer  lan- 
guage of  the  glances,  I  took  the  bull  by  the  horns,  told 
her  my  secret,  and  rhapsodised  on  Flora.  Consequently 
no  Nausicaa  figures  in  this  Odyssey  of  mine.     Nay,  the 

451 


ST.  IVES 

excellent  girl  flung  herself  into  my  cause,  and  bombarded 
her  father  and  the  consular  office  with  such  effect  that 
on  February  2,  18 14,  I  waved  farewell  to  her  from  the 
deck  of  the  barque  Shawmut,  bound  from  Boston  to 
Bordeaux. 


45a 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

IN   PARIS.— ALAIN    PLAYS   HIS   LAST   CARD 

On  the  loth  of  March  at  sunset  the  Shawmut  passed 
the  Pointe  de  Grave  fort  and  entered  the  mouth  of  the 
Gironde,  and  at  eleven  o'clock  next  morning  dropped 
anchor  a  little  below  Blaye,  under  the  guns  of  the  Regu- 
lus,  74.  We  were  just  in  time,  a  British  fleet  being 
daily  expected  there  to  co-operate  with  the  Due  d'An- 
gouleme  and  Count  Lynch,  who  was  then  preparing  to 
pull  the  tricolour  from  his  shoulder  and  betray  Bordeaux 
to  Beresford,  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  to  the  Bourbon.  News 
of  his  purpose  had  already  travelled  down  to  Blaye,  and 
therefore  no  sooner  were  my  feet  once  more  on  the  soil 
of  my  beloved  France,  than  I  turned  them  towards 
Libourne,  or  rather  Fronsac,  and  the  morning  after  my 
arrival  there,  started  for  the  capital. 

But  so  desperately  were  the  joints  of  travel  dislocated 
(the  war  having  deplenished  the  country  alike  of  cattle 
and  able-bodied  drivers)  and  so  frequent  were  the 
breakdowns  by  the  way,  that  I  might  as  expeditiously 
have  trudged  it.  It  cost  me  fifteen  good  days  to  reach 
Orleans,  and  at  Etampes  (which  I  reached  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  30th)  the  driver  of  the  tottering  diligence  flatly 
declined  to  proceed.     The  Cossacks  and  Prussians  were 

453 


ST.  IVES 

at  the  gates  of  Paris.  "  Last  night  we  could  see  the  fires 
of  their  bivouacs.  If  monsieur  listens  he  can  hear  the 
firing."  The  Empress  had  fled  from  the  Tuileries. 
"  Whither  ?  "  The  driver,  the  aubergiste,  the  disinter- 
ested crowd,  shrugged  their  shoulders.  "To  Ram- 
bouillet,  probably."  God  knew  what  was  happening 
or  what  would  happen.  The  Emperor  was  at  Troyes, 
or  at  Sens,  or  else  as  near  as  Fontainebleau;  nobody 
knew  for  certain  which.  But  the  fugitives  from  Paris 
had  been  pouring  in  for  days,  and  not  a  cart  or  four- 
footed  beast  was  to  be  hired  for  love  or  money,  though 
I  hunted  Etampes  for  hours. 

At  length,  and  at  nightfall,  I  ran  against  a  bow-kneed 
grey  mare,  and  a  cabriolet  de  place,  which  by  its  label 
belonged  to  Paris ;  the  pair  wandering  the  street  under 
what  it  would  be  flattery  to  call  the  guidance  of  an 
eminently  drunken  driver.  1  boarded  him ;  he  dissolved 
at  once  into  maudlin  tears  and  prolixity.  It  appeared 
that  on  the  29th  he  had  brought  over  a  bourgeois  family 
from  the  capital,  and  had  spent  the  last  three  days  in 
perambulating  Etampes,  and  the  past  three  nights  in 
crapulous  slumber  within  his  vehicle.  Here  was  my 
chance,  and  I  demanded  to  know  if  for  a  price  he  would 
drive  me  back  with  him  to  Paris.  He  declared,  still 
weeping,  that  he  was  fit  for  anything.  "  For  my  part, 
1  am  ready  to  die,  and  monsieur  knows  that  we  shall 
never  reach." 
"  Still  anything  is  better  than  Etampes." 
For  some  inscrutable  reason  this  struck  him  as  exces- 
sively comic.  He  assured  me  that  I  was  a  brave  fellow, 
and  bade  me  jump  up  at  once.  Within  five  minutes  we 
were  jolting  towards  Paris.     Our  progress  was  all  but 

454 


IN   PARIS. -ALAIN    PLAYS   HIS   LAST  CARD 

inappreciable,  for  the  grey  mare  had  come  to  the  end 
of  her  powers,  and  her  master's  monologue  kept  pace 
with  her.  His  anecdotes  were  all  of  the  past  three  days. 
The  iron  of  Etampes  apparently  had  entered  his  soul 
and  effaced  all  memory  of  his  antecedent  career.  Of 
the  war,  of  any  recent  public  events,  he  could  tell  me 
nothing. 

I  had  half  expected— supposing  the  Emperor  to  be 
near  Fontainebleau— to  happen  on  his  vedettes,  but  we 
had  the  road  to  ourselves,  and  reached  Longjumeau  a 
little  before  daybreak  without  having  encountered  a  liv- 
ing creature.  Here  we  knocked  up  the  proprietor  of  a 
cabaret,  who  assured  us,  between  yawns,  that  we  were 
going  to  our  doom,  and  after  baiting  the  grey  and  dos- 
ing ourselves  with  execrable  brandy,  pushed  forward 
again.  As  the  sky  grew  pale  about  us,  I  had  my  ears 
alert  for  the  sound  of  artillery.  But  Paris  kept  silence. 
We  passed  Sceaux,  and  arrived  at  length  at  Montrouge 
and  the  barrier.  It  was  open— abandoned— not  a  sentry, 
not  a  douanier  visible. 

"  Where  will  monsieur  be  pleased  to  descend  ?  "  my 
driver  inquired,  and  added,  with  an  effort  of  memory, 
that  he  had  a  wife  and  two  adorable  children  on  a  top 
floor  in  the  Rue  du  Mont  Parnasse,  and  stabled  his  mare 
handy  by.  I  paid  and  watched  him  from  the  deserted 
pavement  as  he  drove  away.  A  small  child  came  run- 
ning from  a  doorway  behind  me,  and  blundered  against 
my  legs.  I  caught  him  by  the  collar  and  demanded 
what  had  happened  to  Paris.  "That  I  do  not  know," 
said  the  child,  "  but  mamma  is  dressing  herself  to  take 
me  to  the  review.  Tenei!  "  he  pointed,  and  at  the  head 
of  the  long  street  I  saw  advancing  the  front  rank  of  a 

455 


ST.  IVES 

blue-coated  regiment  of  Prussians,  marching  across 
Paris  to  take  up  position  on  the  Orleans  road. 

That  was  my  answer.  Paris  had  surrendered !  And 
I  had  entered  it  from  the  south  just  in  time,  if  1  wished, 
to  witness  the  entry  of  his  Majesty  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander from  the  north.  Soon  I  found  myself  one  of  a 
crowd  converging  towards  the  bridges,  to  scatter  north- 
ward along  the  line  of  his  Majesty's  progress,  from  the 
Barriere  de  Pantin  to  the  Champs  Elysees,  where  the 
grand  review  was  to  be  held.  1  chose  this  for  my  ob- 
jective, and  making  my  way  along  the  Quays,  found 
myself  shortly  before  ten  o'clock  in  the  Place  de  la  Con- 
corde, where  a  singular  little  scene  brought  me  to  a  halt. 

About  a  score  of  young  men— aristocrats  by  their 
dress  and  carriage— were  gathered  about  the  centre  of 
the  square.  Each  wore  a  white  scarf  and  the  Bourbon 
cockade  in  his  hat;  and  their  leader,  a  weedy  youth  with 
hay-coloured  hair,  had  drawn  a  paper  from  his  pocket, 
and  was  declaiming  its  contents  at  the  top  of  a  voice  by 
several  sizes  too  big  for  him :  — 

"  For  Paris  is  reserved  the  privilege,  under  circum- 
stances now  existing,  to  accelerate  the  dawn  of  Univer- 
sal Peace.  Her  suffrage  is  awaited  with  the  interest 
which  so  immense  a  result  naturally  inspires,"  et  cetera. 
Later  on,  I  possessed  myself  of  a  copy  of  the  Prince 
of  Schwarzenberg's  proclamation,  and  identified  the 
wooden  rhetoric  at  once. 

"  Parisians!  you  have  the  example  of  Bordeaux  before 
you.  ..."  Ay,  by  the  Lord,  they  had— right  under  their 
eyes!  The  hay-coloured  youth  wound  up  his  reading 
with  a  "  Five  le  Rot!  "  and  his  band  of  walking  gentle- 
men took  up  the  shout.     The  crowd  looked  on  impas- 

456 


IN   PARIS.-ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS   LAST   CARD 

sive;  one  or  two  edged  away;  and  a  grey-haired, 
soldierly  horseman  (whom  I  recognised  for  the  Due  de 
Choiseul-Praslin),  passing  in  full  tenue  of  Colonel  of  the 
National  Guard,  reined  up,  and  addressed  the  young 
men  in  a  few  words  of  grave  rebuke.  Two  or  three 
answered  by  snapping  their  fingers,  and  repeating  their 
"  Five  le  Rot"  with  a  kind  of  embarrassed  defiance. 
But  their  performance,  before  so  chilling  an  audience, 
was  falling  sadly  flat  when  a  dozen  or  more  of  young 
royalist  bloods  came  riding  up  to  reanimate  it— among 
them,  M.  Louis  de  Chateaubriand,  M.  Talleyrand's 
brother,  Archambaut  de  Perigord,  the  scoundrelly  Mar- 
quis de  Maubreuil— yes,  and  my  cousin,  the  Vicomte  de 
Saint-Yves ! 

The  indecency,  the  cynical  and  naked  impudence  of 
it,  took  me  like  a  buffet.  There,  in  a  group  of  strangers, 
my  cheek  reddened  under  it,  and  for  the  moment  I  had 
a  mind  to  run.  I  had  done  better  to  run.  By  a  chance 
his  eye  missed  mine  as  he  swaggered  past  at  a  canter, 
for  all  the  world  like  a  tenore  robusto  on  horseback, 
with  the  rouge  on  his  face,  and  his  air  of  expansive 
Olympian  blackguardism.  He  carried  a  lace  white 
handkerchief  at  the  end  of  his  riding-switch,  and  this 
was  bad  enough.  But  as  he  wheeled  his  bay  thorough- 
bred, I  saw  that  he  had  followed  the  declass6  Mau- 
breuil's  example  and  decorated  the  brute's  tail  with  a 
Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  That  brought  my  teeth 
together,  and  I  stood  my  ground. 

"  Vive  le  Rot!''  "  Vivent  les  Bourbons!"  ''A  bas  le 
sabot  corse  !  "  Maubreuil  had  brought  a  basket  full  of 
white  brassards  and  cockades,  and  the  gallant  horsemen 
began  to  ride  about  and  press  them  upon  the  unre- 

457 


ST.  IVES 

sponsive  crowd.  Alain  held  one  of  the  badges  at  arm's- 
length  as  he  pushed  into  the  little  group  about  me,  and 
our  eyes  met. 

"  Merci,**  said  I ;  "  retene:i4e  jusqu' d  ce  que  nous  nous 
rencontrons— Rue  Grigoire  de  Tours!'' 

His  arm  with  the  riding-switch  and  laced  handkerchief 
went  up  as  though  he  had  been  stung.  Before  it  could 
descend,  I  darted  aside  deep  into  the  crowd  which  hus- 
tled around  him,  understanding  nothing,  but  none  the 
less  sullenly  hostile.  ''A  has  les  cocardes  blanches!'' 
cried  one  or  two.  "  Who  was  the  cur  .^  "  I  heard  Mau- 
breuil's  question  as  he  pressed  into  the  rescue,  and  Alain's 
reply,  "  Peste  !  A  young  relative  of  mine  who  is  in  a 
hurry  to  lose  his  head ;  whereas  I  prefer  to  choose  the 
time  for  that." 

I  took  this  for  a  splutter  of  hatred,  and  even  found  it 
laughable  as  I  made  my  escape  good.  At  the  same 
time,  our  encounter  had  put  me  out  of  humour  for  gap- 
ing at  the  review,  and  I  turned  back  and  recrossed  the 
river,  to  seek  the  Rue  du  Fouarre  and  the  widow  Jupille. 

Now  the  Rue  du  Fouarre,  though  once  a  very  famous 
thoroughfare,  is  to-day  perhaps  as  squalid  as  any  that 
drains  its  refuse  by  a  single  gutter  into  the  Seine,  and 
the  widow  had  been  no  beauty  even  in  the  days  when 
she  followed  the  io6th  of  the  line  as  vivandiere  and  be- 
fore she  wedded  Sergeant  Jupille  of  that  regiment.  But 
she  and  1  had  struck  up  a  friendship  over  a  flesh  wound 
which  I  received  in  an  affair  of  outpQsts  on  the  Algueda, 
and  thenceforward  I  taught  myself  to  soften  the  tdigo. 
of  her  white  wine  by  the  remembered  virtues  of  her 
ointment,  so  that  when  Sergeant  Jupille  was  cut  off  by 
a  grape-shot  in  front  of  Salamanca,  and  his  Philomene 

458 


IN   PARIS.— ALAIN   PLAYS  HIS   LAST  CARD 

njtired  to  take  charge  of  his  mother's  wine  shop  in  the 
Rue  du  Fouarre,  she  had  enrolled  my  name  high  on  the 
list  of  her  prospective  patrons.  I  felt  myself,  so  to 
speak,  a  part  of  the  goodwill  of  her  house,  and  "  Heaven 
knows,"  thought  I,  as  I  threaded  the  insalubrious  street, 
'*  it  is  something  for  a  soldier  of  the  Empire  to  count 
even  on  this  much  in  Paris  to-day.  Est  aliquid,  quo- 
cunque  loco,  quocunque  sacello.  ..." 

Madame  Jupille  knew  me  at  once,  and  we  fell  (figu- 
ratively speaking)  upon  each  other's  neck.  Her  shop 
was  empty,  the  whole  quarter  had  trooped  off  to  the 
review.  After  mingling  our  tears  (again  figuratively) 
over  the  fickleness  of  the  capital,  I  inquired  if  she  had 
any  letters  for  me. 

"Why,  no,  comrade." 

"  None  ?  "  I  exclaimed,  with  a  very  blank  face. 

"Not  one";  Madame  Jupille  eyed  me  archly,  and  re- 
lented. "  The  reason  being  that  mademoiselle  is  too  dis- 
creet." 

"  Ah !  "  I  heaved  a  big  sigh  of  relief.  "  You  provok- 
ing woman,  tell  me  what  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  it  may  have  been  ten  days  ago  that  a 
stranger  called  in  and  asked  if  I  had  any  news  of  the 
corporal  who  praised  my  white  wine.  '  Have  I  any 
news,'  said  I,  '  of  a  needle  in  a  bundle  of  hay  ?  They 
all  praise  it.'"     (O,  Madame  Jupille!) 

"'The  corporal  I'm  speaking  of,'  said  he,  Ms  or  was 
called  Champdivers.*  'Was!'  I  cried,  'you  are  not 
going  to  tell  me  he  is  dead  }  '  and  I  declare  to  you,  com- 
rade, the  tears  came  into  my  eyes.  '  No,  he  is  not,'  said 
the  stranger,  *  and  the  best  proof  is  that  he  will  be  here 
inquiring  for  letters  before  long.     You  are  to  tell  him 

459 


ST.  IVES 

that  if  he  expects  one  from  '—see,  I  took  the  name  down 
on  a  scrap  of  paper,  and  stuck  it  in  the  wine-glass  here 
—'from  Miss  Flora  Gilchrist,  he  will  do  well  to  wait  in 
Paris  until  a  friend  finds  means  to  deliver  it  by  hand. 
And  if  he  asks  more  about  me,  say  that  I  am  from  '— 
tenei,  I  wrote  the  second  name  underneath— yes,  that 
is  it—'  Mr.  Romaine.'  " 

"Confound  his  caution!"  said  I.  "What  sort  of 
man  was  this  messenger  ?  " 

"O,  a  staid-looking  man,  dark  and  civil  spoken. 
You  might  call  him  an  upper  servant,  or  perhaps  a 
notary's  clerk;  very  plainly  dressed,  in  black." 

"  He  spoke  French  }  " 

"  Parfaitement.     What  else  ?  " 

"  And  he  has  not  called  again  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure,  yes,  and  the  day  before  yesterday,  and 
seemed  quite  disappointed.  '  Is  there  anything  monsieur 
would  like  to  add  to  his  message  ?  '  I  asked.  *  No,'  said 
he,  '  or  stay,  tell  him  that  all  goes  well  in  the  North,  but 
he  must  not  leave  Paris  until  I  see  him.' " 

You  may  guess  how  I  cursed  Mr.  Romaine  for  this 
beating  about  the  bush.  If  all  went  well  in  the  North, 
what  possible  excuse  of  caution  could  the  man  have  for 
holding  back  Flora's  letter.^  And  how,  in  any  case, 
could  it  compromise  me  here  in  Paris  ?  I  had  half  a 
mind  to  take  the  bit  in  my  teeth  and  post  off  at  once  for 
Calais.  Still,  there  was  the  plain  injunction,  and  the 
lawyer  doubtless  had  a  reason  for  it  hidden  somewhere 
behind  his  tiresome  circumambulatory  approaches.  And 
his  messenger  might  be  back  at  any  hour. 

Therefore,  though  it  went  against  the  grain,  I  thought 
it  prudent  to  take  lodgings  with  Madame  Jupille  and 

460 


IN   PARIS.-ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS   LAST  CARD 

possess  my  soul  in  patience.  You  will  say  that  it  should 
not  have  been  difficult  to  kill  time  in  Paris  between  the 
31st  of  March  and  the  5th  of  April,  18 14.  The  entry  of 
the  Allies,  Marmont's  supreme  betrayal,  the  Emperor's 
abdication,  the  Cossacks  in  the  streets,  the  newspaper 
offices  at  work  like  hives  under  their  new  editors,  and 
buzzing  contradictory  news  from  morning  to  night;  a 
new  rumour  at  every  cafe,  a  scufifle,  or  the  makings  of 
one,  at  every  street  corner,  and  hour  by  hour  a  steady 
stream  of  manifestoes,  placards,  handbills,  caricatures, 
and  broadsheets  of  opprobrious  verse— the  din  of  it  all 
went  by  me  like  the  vain  noises  of  a  dream  as  I  trod  the 
pavements,  intent  upon  my  own  hopes  and  perplexities. 
I  cannot  think  that  this  was  mere  selfishness;  rather,  a 
deep  disgust  was  weaning  me  from  my  country.  If 
this  Paris  indeed  were  the  reality,  then  was  I  the  phan- 
tasm, the  revenant ;  then  was  France— the  France  for 
which  I  had  fought  and  my  parents  gone  to  the  scaffold 
—a  land  that  had  never  been,  and  our  patriotism  the 
shadow  of  a  shade.  Judge  me  not  too  hardly,  if  in  the 
restless,  aimless  perambulations  of  those  five  days,  I 
crossed  the  bridge  between  the  country  that  held  neither 
kin  nor  friends  for  me,  but  only  my  ineffectual  past, 
and  the  country  wherein  one  human  creature,  if  only 
one,  had  use  for  my  devotion. 

On  the  sixth  day— that  is,  April^th-my  patience  broke 
down.  I  took  my  resolution  over  lunch  and  a  bottle  of 
Beaujolais,  and  walked  straight  back  from  the  restaurant 
to  my  lodgings,  where  I  asked  Madame  Jupille  for  pen, 
ink,  and  paper,  and  sat  down  to  advertise  Mr.  Romaine 
that,  for  good  or  ill,  he  might  expect  me  in  London 
within  twenty-four  hours  of  the  receipt  of  this  letter. 

461 


ST.  IVES 

I  had  scarce  composed  the  first  sentence  when  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Madame  Jupilleannounced 
that  two  gentlemen  desired  to  see  me.  "  Show  them 
up,"  said  I,  laying  down  my  pen  with  a  leaping  heart; 
and  in  the  doorway  a  moment  later  stood— my  cousin 
Alain! 

He  was  alone.  He  glanced  with  a  grin  of  comprehen- 
sion from  me  to  the  letter,  advanced,  set  his  hat  on  the 
table  beside  it,  and  his  gloves  (after  blowing  into  them) 
beside  his  hat. 

"  My  cousin,"  said  he,  "you  show  astonishing  agility 
from  time  to  time;  but  on  the  whole  you  are  damned 
easy  to  hunt." 

I  had  risen.  "  I  take  it  you  have  pressing  business  to 
speak  of,  since  amid  your  latest  political  occupations 
you  have  been  at  pains  to  seek  me  out.  If  so,  I  will 
ask  you  to  be  brief." 

"No  pains  at  all,"  he  corrected  affably.  "I  have 
known  all  the  time  that  you  were  here.  In  fact,  I  ex- 
pected you  some  while  before  you  arrived,  and  sent  my 
man  Paul  with  a  message." 

"  A  message  ?  " 

"  Certainly— touching  a  letter  from  la  belle  Flora. 
You  received  it?    The  message,  I  mean." 

"  Then  it  was  not—" 

"  No,  decidedly  it  was  not  Mr.  Romaine,  to  whom  " 
—with  another  glance  at  the  letter—"  I  perceive  you  are 
writing  for  explanations.  And  since  you  are  preparing 
to  ask  how  on  earth  I  traced  you  to  this  rather  unsavoury 
den,  permit  me  to  inform  you  that  a-b  spells  'ab,'  and 
that  Bow  Street,  when  on  the  track  of  a  criminal,  does 
not  neglect  to  open  his  correspondence." 

462 


IN   PARIS. -ALAIN   PLAYS  HIS  LAST  CARD 

I  felt  my  hand  tremble  as  it  gripped  the  top  rail  of  my 
chair,  but  I  managed  to  command  the  voice  to  answer, 
coldly  enough :  — 

"  One  moment,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte,  before  I  do  my- 
self the  pleasure  of  pitching  you  out  of  window.  You 
have  detained  me  these  five  days  in  Paris,  and  have  done 
so,  you  give  me  to  understand,  by  the  simple  expedient 
of  a  lie.  So  far,  so  good.  Will  you  do  me  the  favour 
to  complete  the  interesting  self-exposure,  and  inform 
me  of  your  reasons  ?  " 

"With  all  the  pleasure  in  life.  My  plans  were  not 
ready— a  little  detail  wanting,  that  is  all.  It  is  now 
supplied." 

He  took  a  chair,  seated  himself  at  the  table,  and  drew 
a  folded  paper  from  his  breast  pocket.  "  It  will  be  news 
to  you,  perhaps,  that  our  uncle— our  lamented  uncle,  if 
you  choose— is  dead  these  three  weeks." 

"Rest  his  soul!" 

"Forgive  me  if  I  stop  short  of  that  pious  hope." 
Alain  hesitated,  let  his  venom  get  the  better  of  him,  and 
spat  out  on  his  uncle's  memory  an  obscene  curse  which 
only  betrayed  the  essential  weakness  of  the  man.  Re- 
covering himself,  he  went  on :  "I  need  not  recall  to  you 
a  certain  scene  (I  confess  too  theatrical  for  my  taste)  ar- 
ranged by  the  lawyer  at  his  bedside;  nor  need  I  help 
you  to  an  inkling  of  the  contents  of  his  last  will.  But 
possibly  it  may  have  slipped  your  memory  that  I  gave 
Romaine  fair  warning.  I  promised  him  that  I  would 
raise  the  question  of  undue  influence,  and  that  I  had  my 
witnesses  ready.  I  have  added  to  them  since;  but  I 
own  to  you  that  my  case  will  be  the  stronger  when  you 
have  obligingly  signed  the  paper  which   I  have  the 

463 


ST.  IVES 

honour  to  submit  to  you.  '*    And  he  tossed  it,  unopened, 
across  the  table. 
I  picked  it  up  and  unfolded  it:  — 

"/,  the  Fiscount  Anne  de  K^roual  de  Saint-Yves^  for" 
merly  serving  under  the  name  of  Champdivers  in  the 
Buonapartist  army,  and  later  under  that  name  a  pris- 
oner of  war  in  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  hereby  state 
that  I  had  neither  knowledge  of  my  uncle  the  Count  de 
K^roual  de  Saint-  Yves,  nor  expectations  from  him,  nor 
was  owned  by  him,  until  sought  out  by  Mr.  Daniel 
Romaine,  in  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  by  him  supplied 
with  money  to  expedite  my  escape,  and  by  him  clandes- 
tinely smuggled  at  nightfall  into  Amersham  Place; 
Further,  that  until  that  evening  I  had  never  set  eyes  on 
my  uncle,  nor  have  set  eyes  on  him  since  ;  that  he  was 
bedridden  when  I  saw  him,  and  apparently  in  the  last 
stage  of  senile  decay.  And  I  have  reason  to  believe  that 
Mr.  Romaine  did  not  fully  inform  him  of  the  circum- 
stances of  my  escape,  and  particularly  of  my  concern 
in  the  death  of  a  fellow-prisoner  named  Goguelat,  for- 
merly  a  mardchal  des  logis  in  the  22d  regiment  of  the 
line.  ..." 

Of  the  contents  of  this  precious  document  let  a  sample 
suifice.  From  end  to  end  it  was  a  tissue  of  distorted 
statements  implicated  with  dishonouring  suggestions. 
I  read  it  through,  and  let  it  drop  on  the  table. 

"  1  beg  your  pardon,"  said  I,  "  but  what  do  you  wish 
me  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"Sign  it,"  said  he. 

I  laughed.  "Once  more  I  beg  your  pardon,  but 
464 


IN   PARIS.-ALAIN   PLAYS  HIS  LAST  CARD 

though  you  have  apparently  dressed  for  it,  this  is  not 
comic  opera." 

"Nevertheless,  you  will  sign." 

"O,  you  weary  me."  I  seated  myself,  and  flung  a 
leg  over  the  arm  of  my  chair.  "  Shall  we  come  to  the 
alternative  ?     For  I  assume  you  have  one." 

"  The  alternative,  to  be  sure,"  he  answered  cheerfully. 
"  I  have  a  companion  below,  one  Clausel,  and  at  the  Tete 
d'Or,  a  little  way  up  the  street,  an  escort  of  police." 

Here  was  a  pleasing  predicament.  But  if  Alain  had 
started  with  a  chance  of  daunting  me  (which  I  do  not 
admit),  he  had  spoilt  it  long  since  by  working  on  the 
raw  of  my  temper.  I  kept  a  steady  eye  on  him,  and 
considered;  and  the  longer  I  considered  the  better  as- 
sured was  I  that  his  game  must  have  a  disastrously 
weak  point  somewhere,  which  it  was  my  business  to 
find. 

"You  have  reminded  me  of  your  warning  to  Mr. 
Romaine.  The  subject  is  an  ugly  one  for  two  of  our 
family  to  touch  upon ;  but  do  you  happen  to  recall  Mr. 
Romaine's  counter-threat  ?  " 

"  Bluff!  my  young  sir.  It  served  his  purpose  for  the 
moment,  I  grant  you.  I  was  unhinged.  The  indignity, 
the  very  monstrosity  of  it,  the  baselessness,  staggered 
reason." 

"  It  was  baseless,  then  ?  " 

"  The  best  proof  is  that  in  spite  of  his  threat,  and  my 
open  contempt  and  disregard  of  it,  Mr.  Romaine  has 
not  stirred  a  hand." 

"  You  mean  that  my  uncle  destroyed  the  evidence  ?  " 

"  I  mean  nothing  of  the  kind,"  he  retorted  hotly,  "  for 
I  deny  that  any  such  evidence  at  any  time  existed." 

465 


ST.  IVES 

I  kept  my  eye  on  him.  "  Alain,"  I  said  quietly,  "  you 
are  a  liar." 

A  flush  darkened  his  face  beneath  its  cosmetics,  and 
with  an  oath  he  dipped  finger  and  thumb  into  his  waist- 
coat pocket  and  pulled  out  a  dog  whistle.  "  No  more 
of  that, "  said  he,  "  or  1  whistle  up  the  police  this  minute. " 

"  Well,  well,  let  us  resume  the  discussion.  You  say 
this  man  Clausel  has  denounced  me  ?  " 

He  nodded. 

"  Soldiers  of  the  Empire  are  cheap  in  Paris  just  now." 

"  So  cheap  that  public  opinion  would  be  content  if  all 
the  Messieurs  Champdivers  were  to  kill  all  the  Messieurs 
Goguelat  and  be  shot  or  guillotined  for  it.  I  forget 
which  your  case  demands,  and  doubt  if  public  opinion 
would  inquire." 

"And  yet,"  I  mused,  "there  must  be  preliminaries; 
some  form  of  trial,  for  instance,  with  witnesses.  It  is 
even  possible  that  I  might  be  found  innocent." 

"  I  have  allowed  for  that  unlikely  chance,  and  1  look 
beyond  it.  To  be  frank,  it  does  not  strike  me  as  prob- 
able that  a  British  jury  will  hand  over  the  estates  of  the 
Comte  de  K6roual  de  Saint-Yves  to  an  escaped  Buona- 
partist  prisoner  who  has  stood  his  trial  for  the  murder 
of  a  comrade,  and  received  the  benefit  of  the  doubt." 

"  Allow  me,"  said  I,  "  to  open  the  window  an  inch  or 
two.  No;  put  back  your  whistle.  I  do  not  propose  to 
fling  you  out,  at  least  not  just  yet;  nor  will  I  try  to  es- 
cape. To  tell  you  the  truth,  you  suggest  the  need  of  a 
little  fresh  air.  And  now,  monsieur,  you  assure  me 
you  hold  the  knave  in  your  hand.  Well,  then,  play 
him.  Before  I  tear  your  foolish  paper  up,  let  me  have 
a  look  at  your  confederate."    I  stepped  to  the  door  and 

466 


IN   PARIS.-ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS   LAST  CARD 

called  down  the  stairs,  "  Madame  Jupille,  be  so  good  as 
to  ask  my  other  visitor  to  ascend." 

With  that  I  turned  to  the  window  again  and  stood 
there  looking  out  upon  the  foul  gutter  along  which  the 
refuse  of  some  dye-works  at  the  head  of  the  street  found 
its  way  down  to  the  Seine.  And  standing  so,  I  heard 
the  expected  footsteps  mounting  the  stairs. 

"  I  must  ask  your  pardon,  monsieur,  for  this  intru- 
sion—" 

"  Hey ! "  If  the  words  had  been  a  charge  of  shot  fired 
into  my  back,  I  could  not  have  spun  round  on  them 
more  suddenly.     "Mr.  Romaine!" 

For  indeed  it  was  he,  and  not  Clausel,  who  stood  in 
the  doorway.  And  to  this  day  I  do  not  know  if  Alain 
or  I  stared  at  him  with  the  blanker  bewilderment; 
though  I  believe  there  was  a  significant  difference  in  our 
complexions. 

''Monsieur  le  Vicomte,"  said  Romaine,  advancing, 
"  recently  effected  an  exchange.  I  have  taken  the  liberty 
to  effect  another,  and  have  left  Mr.  Clausel  below  listen- 
ing to  some  arguments  which  are  being  addressed  to 
him  by  Mr.  Dudgeon,  my  confidential  clerk.  I  think  I 
may  promise  "—with  a  chuckle—"  they  will  prove  effec- 
tual. By  your  faces,  gentlemen,  I  see  that  you  regard 
my  appearance  as  something  in  the  nature  of  a  miracle. 
Yet  Monsieur  le  Viscount  at  least  should  be  guessing 
by  this  time  that  it  is  the  simplest,  most  natural  affair 
in  the  world.  I  engaged  my  word,  sir,  to  have  you 
watched.  Will  it  be  set  down  to  more  than  ordinary 
astuteness  that  finding  you  in  negotiations  for  the  ex- 
change of  the  prisoner  Clausel,  we  kept  an  eye  upon 
him  also  ?— that  we  followed  him  to  Dover,  and  though 

467 


ST.  IVES 

unfortunate  in  missing  the  boat,  reached  Paris  in  time 
to  watch  the  pair  of  you  leave  your  lodgings  this  morn- 
ing—nay, that,  knowing  whither  you  were  bound,  we 
reached  the  Rue  du  Fouarre  in  time  to  watch  you  mak- 
ing your  dispositions  ?  But  I  run  on  too  fast.  Mr. 
Anne,  I  am  entrusted  with  a  letter  for  you.  When, 
with  Mr.  Alain's  permission,  you  have  read  it,  we  will 
resume  our  little  conversation." 

He  handed  me  the  letter  and  walked  to  the  fireplace, 
where  he  took  snuff  copiously,  while  Alain  eyed  him 
like  a  mastiff  about  to  spring.  I  broke  open  my  letter 
and  stooped  to  pick  up  a  small  enclosure  which  fell 
from  it. 

"  My  dearest  Anne  :  When  your  letter  came  and  put 
life  into  me  again,  I  sat  down  in  my  happiness  and 
wrote  you  one  that  I  shall  never  allow  you  to  see ;  for 
it  makes  me  wonder  at  myself.  But  when  I  took  it  to 
Mr.  Robbie,  he  asked  to  see  your  letter,  and  when  I 
showed  him  the  wrapper,  declared  that  it  had  been 
tampered  with,  and  if  I  wrote  and  told  you  what  we 
were  doing  for  you,  it  might  only  make  your  enemies 
the  wiser.  For  we  have  done  something,  and  this 
(which  is  purely  a  business  letter)  is  to  tell  you  that  the 
credit  does  not  all  belong  to  Mr.  Robbie,  or  to  your  Mr. 
Romaine  (who  by  Mr.  Robbie's  account  must  be  quite  a 
tiresome  old  gentleman,  though  well-meaning,  no  doubt). 
But  on  the  Tuesday  after  you  left  us  I  had  a  talk  with 
Major  Chevenix,  and  when  I  really  felt  quite  sorry  for 
him  (though  it  was  no  use,  and  I  told  him  so),  he  turned 
round  in  a  way  I  could  not  but  admire  and  said  he 
wished  me  well  and  would  prove  it.     He  said  the 

468 


IN   PARIS.-ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS  LAST  CARD 

charge  against  you  was  really  one  for  the  military  au- 
thorities alone;  that  he  had  reasons  for  feeling  sure  that 
you  had  been  drawn  into  this  affair  on  a  point  of  honour ^ 
which  was  quite  a  different  thing  from  what  they  said ; 
and  that  he  could  not  only  make  an  affidavit  or  some- 
thing of  the  kind  on  his  own  account,  but  knew  enough 
of  that  man  Clausel  to  make  him  confess  the  truth. 
Which  he  did  the  very  next  day,  and  made  Clausel  sign 
it,  and  Mr.  Robbie  has  a  copy  of  the  man's  statement 
which  he  is  sending  with  this  to  Mr.  Romaine  in  Lon- 
don ;  and  that  is  the  reason  why  Rowley  (who  is  a  dear) 
has  come  over,  and  is  waiting  in  the  kitchen  while  I 
write  these  hurried  lines.  He  says,  too,  that  Major 
Chevenix  was  only  just  in  time,  since  Clausel's  friends 
are  managing  an  exchange  for  him,  and  he  is  going 
back  to  France.     And  so  in  haste  I  write  myself,— 

"  Your  sincere  friend, 
"  Flora. 

"P.S.— My  aunt  is  well;  Ronald  is  expecting  his 
commission. 

"  P. P. S.— You  told  me  to  write  it,  and  so  I  must:  '  I 
love  you,  Anne.'" 

The  enclosure  was  a  note  in  a  large  and  unformed 
hand,  and  ran:  — 

"  Dear  Mr.  Anne,  Respected  Sir,— This  comes  hope- 
ing  to  find  you  well  as  it  leaves  me  at  present,  all  is  well 
as  Miss  Flora  will  tell  you  that  double-died  Clausel  has 
confest.  This  is  to  tell  you  Mrs.  MacR.  is  going  on 
nicely,  bar  the  religion  which  is  only  put  on  to  anoy 
people  and  being  a  widow  who  blames  her,  not  me. 

469 


ST.  IVES 

Miss  Flora  says  she  will  put  this  in  with  hers,  and  there 
is  something  else  but  it  is  a  dead  secret,  so  no  more  at 
present  from,  sir,— Yours  Respectfully, 

•    "J AS.  Rowley." 

Having  read  these  letters  through,  I  placed  them  in 
my  breast  pocket,  stepped  to  the  table,  and  handed 
Alain's  document  gravely  back  to  him ;  then  turned  to 
Mr.  Romaine,  who  shut  his  snuflF-box  with  a  snap. 

"It  only  remains,  I  think,"  said  the  lawyer,  "to  dis- 
cuss the  terms  which  (merely  as  a  matter  of  generosity, 
or,  say,  for  the  credit  of  your  house)  can  be  granted  to 
your— to  Mr.  Alain." 

"  You  forget  Clausel,  I  think,"  snarled  my  cousin. 

"True,  I  had  forgotten  Clausel."  Mr.  Romaine 
stepped  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  called  down, 
*' Dudgeon!" 

Mr.  Dudgeon  appeared,  and  endeavoured  to  throw 
into  the  stiffness  of  his  salutation  a  denial  that  he  had 
ever  waltzed  with  me  in  the  moonlight. 

"  Where  is  the  man  Clausel  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know,  sir,  if  you  would  place  the  wine  shop 
of  the  Tete  d'Or  at  the  top  or  the  bottom  of  this  street; 
I  presume  the  top,  since  the  sewer  runs  in  the  opposite 
direction.  At  all  events,  Mr.  Clausel  disappeared  about 
two  minutes  ago  in  the  same  direction  as  the  sewer." 

Alain  sprang  up,  whistle  in  hand. 

"Put  it  down,"  said  Mr.  Romaine.  "The  man  was 
cheating  you.  I  can  only  hope,"  he  added,  with  a  sour 
smile,  "that  you  paid  him  on  account  with  an  I.  O.  U." 

But  Alain  turned  at  bay.  "  One  trivial  point  seems  to 
have  escaped  you,  Master  Attorney,  or  your  courage  is 

470 


IN   PARIS.-ALAIN   PLAYS   HIS   LAST  CARD 

more  than  I  give  you  credit  for.  The  English  are  none 
too  popular  in  Paris  as  yet,  and  this  is  not  the  most 
scrupulous  quarter.  One  blast  of  this  whistle,  a  cry  of 
'  Espion  Anglais! '  and  two  Englishmen—*' 

"Say  three,"  Mr.  Romaine  interrupted,  and  strode  to 
the  door.  "  Will  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn  be  good  enough  to 
step  up-stairs  }  " 

And  here  let  me  cry  "  Halt."  There  are  things  in  this 
world— or  that  is  my  belief— too  pitiful  to  be  set  down 
in  writing,  and  of  these,  Alain's  collapse  was  one.  It 
may  be,  too,  that  Mr.  Romaine's  British  righteousness 
accorded  rather  ill  with  the  weapon  he  used  so  unspar- 
ingly. Of  Fenn  I  need  only  say  that  the  luscious  rogue 
shouldered  through  the  doorway  as  though  he  had  a 
public  duty  to  discharge,  and  only  the  contrariness  of 
circumstances  had  prevented  his  discharging  it  before. 
He  cringed  to  Mr.  Romaine,  who  held  him  and  the 
whole  nexus  of  his  villainies  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 
He  was  even  obsequiously  eager  to  denounce  his  fellow- 
traitor.  Under  a  like  compulsion,  he  would  (I  feel  sure) 
have  denounced  his  own  mother.  I  saw  the  sturdy 
Dudgeon's  mouth  working  like  a  bull  terrier's  over  a 
shrew  mouse.  And  between  them,  Alain  had  never  a 
chance.  Not  for  the  first  time  in  this  history,  I  found 
myself  all  but  taking  sides  with  him  in  sheer  repulsion 
from  the  barbarity  of  the  attack.  It  seemed  that  it  was 
through  Fenn  that  Mr.  Romaine  had  first  happened  on 
the  scent;  and  the  greater  rogue  had  held  back  a  part  of 
the  evidence,  and  would  trade  it  now— "having  been 
led  astray— to  any  gentleman  that  would  let  bygones  be 
bygones."  And  it  was  I,  at  length,  who  interposed 
when  my  cousin  was  beaten  to  his  knees,  and  having 

47 » 


ST.  IVES 

dismissed  Mr.  Burchell  Fenn,  restored  the  discussion  to 
a  businesslike  footing.  The  end  of  it  was  that  Alain 
renounced  all  his  claims,  and  accepted  a  yearly  pension 
of  six  thousand  francs.  Mr.  Romaine  made  it  a  condi- 
tion that  he  should  never  set  foot  again  in  England;  but 
seeing  that  he  would  certainly  be  arrested  for  debt  within 
twenty-four  hours  of  his  landing  at  Dover,  I  thought 
this  unnecessary. 

"  A  good  day's  work,"  said  the  lawyer,  as  we  stood 
together  in  the  street  outside. 

But  I  was  silent. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Anne,  if  I  may  have  the  honour  of 
your  company  at  dinner— shall  we  say  Tortoni's  ?— we 
will  on  our  way  step  round  to  my  hotel,  the  Quatre 
Saisons,  behind  the  H6tel  de  Ville,  and  order  a  caleche 
and  four  to  be  in  readiness." 


47a 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

I   GO   TO   CLAIM    FLORA 

Behold  me  now  speeding  northward  on  the  wings 
of  love,  ballasted  by  Mr.  Romaine.  But,  indeed,  that 
worthy  man  climbed  into  the  caleche  with  something 
less  than  his  habitual  gravity.  He  was  obviously  and 
pardonably  flushed  with  triumph.  I  observed  that  now 
and  again  he  smiled  to  himself  in  the  twilight,  or  drew 
in  his  breath  and  emitted  it  with  a  martial  pouf!  And 
when  he  began  to  talk— which  he  did  as  soon  as  we 
were  clear  of  the  Saint-Denis  barrier— the  points  of  the 
family  lawyer  were  untrussed.  He  leant  back  in  the 
caleche  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  subscribed  to 
the  Peace  of  Europe,  and  dined  well  on  top  of  it.  He 
criticised  the  fortifications  with  a  wave  of  his  tooth- 
pick, and  discoursed  derisively  and  at  large  on  the 
Emperor's  abdication,  on  the  treachery  of  the  Duke  of 
Ragusa,  on  the  prospects  of  the  Bourbons,  and  on  the 
character  of  M.  Talleyrand,  with  anecdotes  which  made 
up  in  raciness  for  what  they  lacked  in  authenticity. 

We  were  bowling  through  La  Chapelle,  when  he 
pulled  out  his  snuff-box  and  proffered  it. 

"You  are  silent,  Mr.  Anne." 

"I  was  waiting  for  the  chorus,"  said  I.  "'Rule, 
473 


ST.  IVES 

Britannia  I  Britannia  rules  the  waves:  and  Britons 
never,  never,  never—'    Come,  out  with  it!  " 

"  Well,"  he  retorted ;  "  and  I  hope  the  tune  will  come 
natural  to  you  before  long." 

"O,  give  me  time,  my  dear  sir!  I  have  seen  the 
Cossacks  enter  Paris,  and  the  Parisians  decorate  their 
poodles  with  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  I 
have  seen  them  hoist  a  wretch  on  the  Vendome  column, 
to  smite  the  bronze  face  of  the  man  of  Austerlitz.  I 
have  seen  the  salle  of  the  Opera  rise  to  applaud  a  blatant 
fat  fellow  singing  the  praises  of  the  Prussian— and  to 
the  tune  of  *  Vive  Henri  Quatre  ! '  I  have  seen,  in  my 
cousin  Alain,  of  what  the  best  blood  in  France  is  ca- 
pable. Also,  I  have  seen  peasant  boys— unripe  crops  of 
the  later  levies— mown  down  by  grape-shot,  raise 
themselves  on  their  elbows,  to  cheer  for  France  and  the 
little  man  in  grey.  In  time,  Mr.  Rbmaine,  no  doubt  my 
memory  will  confuse  these  lads  with  their  betters,  and 
their  mothers  with  the  ladies  of  the  salle  de  I'Op^ra:  just 
as  in  time,  no  doubt,  I  shall  find  myself  Justice  of  the 
Peace,  and  Deputy  Lieutenant  of  the  shire  of  Bucking- 
ham. I  am  changing  my  country,  as  you  remind  me: 
and,  on  my  faith,  she  has  no  place  for  me.  But,  for 
the  sake  of  her,  I  have  explored  and  found  the  best  of 
her— in  my  new  country's  prisons.  And  I  repeat,  you 
must  give  me  time." 

"Tut,  tut!  "  was  his  comment,  as  I  searched  for  tin- 
der-box and  sulphur  match  to  relight  my  cigar.  "  We 
must  get  you  into  Parliament,  Mr.  Anne.  You  have 
the  gift." 

As  we  approached  Saint-Denis,  the  flow  of  his  dis- 
course sensibly  slackened ;  and,  a  little  beyond,  he  pulled 

474 


I   GO  TO  CLAIM   FLORA 

his  travelling-cap  over  his  ears,  and  settled  down  to 
slumber.  I  sat  wide  awake  beside  him.  The  spring 
night  had  a  touch  of  chill  in  it,  and  the  breath  of  our 
horses,  streaming  back  upon  the  lamps  of  the  caleche, 
kept  a  constant  nimbus  between  me  and  the  postilions. 
Above  it,  and  over  the  black  spires  of  the  poplar  avenues, 
the  regiments  of  stars  moved  in  parade.  My  gaze  went 
up  to  the  ensign  of  their  noiseless  evolutions,  to  the 
pole-star,  and  to  Cassiopeia  swinging  beneath  it,  low 
in  the  north,  over,  my  Flora's  pillow— w^  pole-star  and 
journey's  end. 

Under  this  soothing  reflection  I  composed  myself  to 
slumber;  and  awoke,  to  my  surprise  and  annoyance,  in 
a  miserable  flutter  of  the  nerves.  And  this  fretfulness 
increased  with  the  hours,  so  that  from  Amiens  to  the 
coast  Mr.  Romaine  must  have  had  the  devil  of  a  time 
with  me.  I  bolted  my  meals  at  the  way-houses,  chafing 
all  the  while  at  the  business  of  the  relays.  I  popped  up 
and  down  in  the  caleche  like  a  shot  on  a  hot  shovel.  I 
cursed  our  pace.  I  girded  at  the  lawyer's  snuflf-box,  and 
could  have  called  him  out  upon  Calais  sands,  when  we 
reached  them,  to  justify  his  vile,  methodical  use  of  it. 
By  good  fortune  we  arrived  to  find  the  packet  ready 
with  her  warps,  and  bundled  ourselves  on  board  in  a 
hurry.  We  sought  separate  cabins  for  the  night,  and  in 
mine,  as  in  a  sort  of  moral  bath,  the  drastic  cross-seas 
of  the  Channel  cleansed  me  of  my  irritable  humour,  and 
left  me  like  a  rag,  beaten  and  hung  on  a  clothes-line  to 
the  winds  of  heaven. 

In  the  grey  of  the  morning  we  disembarked  at  Dover; 
and  here  Mr.  Romaine  had  prepared  a  surprise  for  me. 
For,  as  we  drew  to  the  shore,  and  the  throng  of  porters 

475 


ST.  IVES 

and  waterside  loafers,  on  what  should  my  gaze  alight 
but  the  beaming  countenance  of  Mr.  Rowley!  I  declare 
it  communicated  a  roseate  flush  to  the  pallid  cliffs  of 
Albion.  I  could  have  fallen  on  his  neck.  On  his  side 
the  honest  lad  kept  touching  his  hat  and  grinning  in  a 
speechless  ecstasy.  As  he  confessed  to  me  later,  "  It 
was  either  hold  my  tongue,  sir,  or  call  for  three  cheers." 
He  snatched  my  valise  and  ushered  us  through  the  crowd 
to  our  hotel  breakfast.  And  it  seemed  he  must  have 
filled  up  his  time  at  Dover  with  trumpetings  of  our  im- 
portance :  for  the  landlord  welcomed  us  on  the  perron, 
obsequiously  cringing;  we  entered  in  a  respectful  hush 
that  might  have  flattered  his  Grace  of  Wellington  him- 
self; and  the  waiters,  I  believe,  would  have  gone  on  all 
fours,  but  for  the  difficulty  of  reconciling  that  posture 
with  efficient  service.  I  knew  myself  at  last  for  a  Per- 
sonage: a  great  English  landowner:  and  did  my  best  to 
command  the  mien  proper  to  that  tremendous  class 
when,  the  meal  despatched,  we  passed  out  between  the 
bowing  ranks  to  the  door  where  our  chaise  stood 
ready. 

"  But  hullo!  "  said  I  at  sight  of  it;  and  my  eye  sought 
Rowley's. 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  took  it  on  myself  to 
order  the  colour,  and  hoping  it  wasn't  a  liberty." 

"  Claret  and  invisible  green— a  duplicate,  but  for  a 
bullet-hole  wanting." 

"  Which  I  didn't  like  to  go  so  far  on  my  own  hook, 
Mr.  Anne." 

"  We  fight  under  the  old  colours,  my  lad." 

"  And  walk  in  and  win  this  time,  sir,  strike  me  lucky ! " 

While  we  bowled  along  the  first  stage  towards  Lon- 
476 


I  GO  TO   CLAIM   FLORA 

don— Mr.  Romaine  and  I  within  the  chaise  and  Rowley 
perched  upon  the  dicky— I  told  the  lawyer  of  our  pro- 
gress from  Aylesbury  to  Kirkby-Lonsdale.  He  took 
snuff. 

"  Forsitan  et  hcec  o/m— that  Rowley  of  yours  seems 
a  good-hearted  lad,  and  less  of  a  fool  than  he  looks. 
The  next  time  I  have  to  travel  post  with  an  impatient 
lover,  I'll  take  a  leaf  out  of  his  book  and  buy  me  a  flag- 
eolet." 

"  Sir,  it  was  ungrateful  of  me—" 

"Tut,  tut,  Mr.  Anne.  I  was  fresh  from  my  little 
triumph,  that  is  all;  and  perhaps  would  have  felt  the 
better  for  a  word  of  approbation— a  little  pat  on  the 
back,  as  I  may  say.  It  is  not  often  that  I  have  felt  the 
need  of  it— twice  or  thrice  in  my  life,  perhaps :  not  often 
enough  to  justify  my  anticipating  your  example  and 
seeking  a  wife  betimes :  for  that  is  a  man's  one  chance 
if  he  wants  another  to  taste  his  success." 

"  And  yet  I  dare  swear  you  rejoice  in  mine  unselfishly 
enough." 

"Why,  no,  sir:  your  cousin  would  have  sent  me  to 
the  right-about  within  a  week  of  his  succession.  Still, 
I  own  to  you  that  he  offended  something  at  least  as  deep 
as  self-interest:  the  sight  and  scent  of  him  habitually 
turned  my  gorge:  whereas  "—and  he  inclined  to  me 
with  a  dry  smile— "your  unwisdom  at  least  was  amia- 
ble, and— in  short,  sir,  though  you  can  be  infernally 
provoking,  it  has  been  a  pleasure  to  serve  you." 

You  may  be  sure  that  this  did  not  lessen  my  contri- 
tion. We  reached  London  late  that  night;  and  here  Mr. 
Romaine  took  leave  of  us.  Business  waited  for  him  at 
Amersham  Place.     After  a  few  hours'  sleep,  Rowley 

477 


ST.  IVES 

woke  me  to  choose  between  two  post-boys  in  blue 
jackets  and  white  hats,  and  two  in  buff  jackets  and 
black,  hats,  who  were  competing  for  the  honour  of  con- 
veying us  as  far  as  Barnet:  and  having  decided  in  favour 
of  the  blue  and  white,  and  solaced  the  buff  and  black 
with  a  pourhoire,  we  pushed  forward  once  more. 

We  were  now  upon  the  Great  North  Road,  along 
which  the  York  mail  rolled  its  steady  ten  miles  an  hour 
to  the  wafted  music  of  the  guard's  bugle— a  rate  of 
speed  which,  to  the  more  Dorian  mood  of  Mr.  Rowley's 
flageolet,  I  proposed  to  better  by  one-fifth.  But  first, 
having  restored  the  lad  to  his  old  seat  beside  me,  1  must 
cross-question  him  upon  his  adventures  in  Edinburgh, 
and  the  latest  news  of  Flora  and  her  aunt,  Mr.  Robbie, 
Mrs.  McRankine,  and  the  rest  of  my  friends.  It  came 
out  that  Mr.  Rowley's  surrender  to  my  dear  girl  had 
been  both  instantaneous  and  complete.  "  She  is  a  floorer, 
Mr.  Anne.  I  suppose  now,  sir,  you'll  be  standing  up 
for  that  knock-me-down  kind  of  thing  ?  " 

"Explain  yourself,  my  lad." 

*'  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,  what  they  call  love  at  first 
sight."  He  wore  an  ingenuous  blush  and  an  expression 
at  once  shy  and  insinuating. 

"The  poets,  Rowley,  are  on  my  side." 

"  Mrs.  McRankine,  sir—" 

"  The  Queen  of  Navarre,  Mr.  Rowley—" 

But  he  so  far  forgot  himself  as  to  interrupt.  "  It  took 
Mrs.  McRankine  years,  sir,  to  get  used  to  her  first  hus- 
band.    She  told  me  so." 

"  It  took  us  some  days,  if  I  remember,  to  get  used  to 
Mrs.  McRankine.     To  be  sure,  her  cooking—" 

"That's  what  I  say,  Mr.  Anne:  it's  more  than  skin- 
478 


I   GO  TO   CLAIM   FLORA 

deep :  and  you'll  hardly  believe  me,  sir— that  is,  if  you 
didn't  take  note  of  it— but  she  hev  got  an  ankle," 

He  had  produced  the  pieces  of  his  flageolet,  and  was 
adjusting  them  nervously,  with  a  face  red  as  a  turkey- 
cock's  wattles.  I  regarded  him  with  a  new  and  incred- 
ulous amusement.  That  I  served  Mr.  Rowley  for  a 
glass  of  fashion  and  a  mould  of  form  was,  of  course, 
no  new  discovery:  and  the  traditions  of  body-service 
allow,  nay,  enjoin,  that  when  the  gentleman  goes  a- 
wooing,  the  valet  shall  take  a  sympathetic  wound. 
What  could  be  more  natural  than  that  a  gentleman  of 
sixteen  should  select  a  lady  of  fifty  for  his  first  essay  in 
the  tender  passion  }     Still— Bethiah  McRankine! 

I  kept  my  countenance  with  an  effort.  "  Mr.  Rowley, " 
said  I,  "if  music  be  the  food  of  love,  play  on."  And 
Mr.  Rowley  gave  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me,  shyly 
at  first,  but  anon  with  terrific  expression.  He  broke  off 
with  a  sigh:  "Heigh-ho!  "  in  fact,  said  Rowley:  and 
started  off  again,  while  I  tapped  out  the  time,  and 
hummed: 

"  But  now  I'm  bound  for  Brighton  camp, 
Kind  heaven  then  pray  guide  me, 
And  send  me  safely  back  again 
To  the  girl  I  left  behind  me  !  " 

Thenceforward  that  not  uninspiriting  air  became  the 
motif  of  our  progress.  We  never  tired  of  it.  When- 
ever our  conversation  flagged,  by  tacit  consent  Mr. 
Rowley  pieced  his  flageolet  together  and  started  it.  The 
horses  lilted  it  out  in  their  gallop :  the  harness  jingled, 
the  postilions  tittupped  to  it.  And  the  presto  with 
which  it  wound  up  as  we  came  to  a  post-house  and  a 
fresh  relay  of  horses  had  to  be  heard  to  be  believed. 

479 


ST.  IVES 

So  with  the  chaise  windows  open  to  the  vigorous  airs 
of  spring,  and  my  own  breast  like  a  window  flung 
wide  to  youth  and  health  and  happy  expectations,  I  rat- 
tled homeward;  impatient  as  a  lover  should  be,  yet  not 
too  impatient  to  taste  the  humour  of  spinning  like  a 
lord,  with  a  pocketful  of  money,  along  the  road  which 
the  ci-devant  M.  Cham pdi vers  had  so  fearfully  dodged 
and  skirted  in  Burchell  Fenn's  covered  cart. 

And  yet  so  impatient  that  when  we  galloped  over  the 
Calton  Hill  and  down  into  Edinburgh  by  the  new  Lon- 
don road,  with  the  wind  in  our  faces,  and  a  sense  of 
April  in  it,  brisk  and  jolly,  I  must  pack  off  Rowley  to 
our  lodgings  with  the  valises,  and  stay  only  for  a  wash 
and  breakfast  at  Dumbreck's  before  posting  on  to 
Swanston  alone. 

'*  Whene'er  my  steps  return  that  way, 
Still  faithful  shall  she  find  me, 
And  nevermore  again  I'll  stray 
From  the  girl  I  left  behind  me." 

Where  the  gables  of  the  cottage  rose  into  view  over 
the  hill's  shoulder  I  dismissed  my  driver  and  walked 
forward,  whistling  the  tune;  but  fell  silent  as  I  came 
under  the  lee  of  the  garden  wall,  and  sought  for  the 
exact  spot  of  my  old  escalade.  I  found  it  by  the  wide 
beechen  branches  over  the  road,  and  hoisted  myself 
noiselessly  up  to  the  coping  where,  as  before,  they 
screened  me— or  would  have  screened  me  had  I  cared 
to  wait. 

But  I  did  not  care  to  wait;  and  why?  Because,  not 
fifteen  yards  from  me,  she  stood!— she,  my  Flora,  my 
goddess,  bareheaded,  swept  by  chequers  of  morning 

480 


I  GO  TO  CLAIM  FLORA 

sunshine  and  green  shadows,  with  the  dew  on  her 
sandal  shoes  and  the  lap  of  her  morning  gown  appro- 
priately heaped  with  flowers— with  tulips,  scarlet,  yel- 
low, and  striped.  And  confronting  her,  with  his  back 
towards  me  and  a  remembered  patch  between  the  arm- 
holes  of  his  stable-waistcoat,  Robie  the  gardener  rested 
both  hands  on  his  spade  and  expostulated. 

"  But  1  like  to  pick  my  tulips  leaves  and  all,  Ro- 
bie! " 

"  Aweel,  miss ;  it's  clean  ruinin'  the  bulbs,  that's  all  I 
say  to  you." 

And  that  was  all  I  waited  to  hear.  As  he  bent  over 
and  resumed  his  digging  1  shook  a  branch  of  the  beech 
with  both  hands  and  set  it  swaying.  She  heard  the 
rustle  and  glanced  up,  and,  spying  me,  uttered  a  gasp- 
ing little  cry. 

"  What  ails  ye,  miss  ?  "  Robie  straightened  himself 
instanter;  but  she  had  whipped  right-about  face  and 
was  gazing  towards  the  kitchen  garden : 

"  Isn't  that  a  child  among  the  arti— the  strawberry 
beds,  I  mean  ?  " 

He  cast  down  his  spade  and  ran.  She  turned,  let  the 
tulips  fall  at  her  feet,  and,  ah!  her  second  cry  of  glad- 
ness, and  her  heavenly  blush  as  she  stretched  out  both 
arms  to  me!  It  was  all  happening  over  again— with 
the  difference  that  now  my  arms  too  were  stretched  out 

"Journeys  end  in  lovers  meeting, 
Every  wise  man's  son  doth  know.  .  .  ." 

Robie  had  run  a  dozen  yards  perhaps,  when  either  the 
noise  I  made  in  scrambling  off  the  wall,  or  some  recol- 
lection of  having  been  served  in  this  way  before,  brought 

481 


ST.  IVES 

him  to  a  halt     At  any  rate  he  turned  round,  and  just 
in  time  to  witness  our  embrace. 

"  The  good  Lord  behear!  "  he  exclaimed,  stood  stock- 
still  for  a  moment,  and  waddled  off  at  top  speed  towards 
the  back  door. 

"  We  must  tell  Aunt  at  once !  She  will— why,  Anne, 
where  are  you  going  ?  "    She  caught  my  sleeve. 

"To  the  hen-house,  to  be  sure,"  said  I. 

A  moment  later,  with  peals  of  happy  laughter  we 
had  taken  hands  and  were  running  along  the  garden 
alleys  towards  the  house.  And  I  remember,  as  we  ran, 
finding  it  somewhat  singular  that  this  should  be  the 
first  time  I  had  ever  invaded  Swanston  Cottage  by  way 
of  the  front  door. 

We  came  upon  Miss  Gilchrist  in  the  breakfast-room. 
A  pile  of  linen  lay  on  the  horsehair  sofa;  and  the  good 
lady,  with  a  measuring-tape  in  one  hand  and  a  pair  of 
scissors  in  the  other,  was  walking  around  Ronald,  who 
stood  on  the  hearth-rug  in  a  very  manly  attitude.  She 
regarded  me  over  her  gold-rimmed  spectacles,  and, 
shifting  the  scissors  into  her  left  hand,  held  out  her  right. 

"H'm,"  said  she;  "I  give  ye  good  morning,  mosha. 
And  what  might  you  be  wanting  of  us  this  time  ?  " 

"  Madam,"  I  answered, "  that,  I  hope,  is  fairly  evident." 

Ronald  came  forward.  "  I  congratulate  you,  St.  Ives, 
with  all  my  heart.  And  you  may  congratulate  me:  I 
have  my  commission." 

"Nay,  then,"  said  I,  "let  me  rather  congratulate 
France  that  the  war  is  over.  Seriously,  my  dear  fellow, 
I  wish  you  joy.     What's  the  regiment  ?  " 

"The  4th." 

"Chevenix'sl" 

48a 


I    GO  TO   CLAIM   FLORA 

"  Chevenix  is  a  decent  fellow.  He  has  behaved  very 
well,  indeed  he  has." 

"Very  well  indeed,"  said  Flora,  nodding  her  head. 

"  He  has  the  knack.  But  if  you  expect  me  to  like 
him  any  the  better  for  it—" 

"  Major  Chevenix,"  put  in  Miss  Gilchrist,  in  her  most 
Rhadamanthine  voice,  **  always  sets  me  in  mind  of  a  pair 
of  scissors."  She  opened  and  shut  the  pair  in  her  hand, 
and  I  had  to  confess  that  the  stiff  and  sawing  action 
was  admirably  illustrative.  "  But  I  wish  to  heaven, 
madam,"  thought  I,  "you  could  have  chosen  another 
simile!  " 

In  the  evening  of  that  beatific  day  I  walked  back  to 
Edinburgh  by  some  aerial  and  rose-clouded  path  not 
indicated  on  the  maps.  It  led  somehow  to  my  lodgings, 
and  my  feet  touched  earth  when  the  door  was  opened 
to  me  by  Bethiah  McRankine. 

"  But  where  is  Rowley  ?  "  I  asked  a  moment  later, 
looking  round  my  sitting-room. 

Mrs.  McRankine  smiled  sardonically.  "  Him  ?  He 
came  back  rolling  his  eyes  so  that  I  guessed  him  to  be 
troubled  in  the  wind.  And  he's  in  bed  this  hour  past 
with  a  spoonful  of  peppermint  in  his  little  wame." 

And  here  I  may  ring  down  the  curtain  upon  the  ad- 
ventures of  Anne  de  Saint-Yves. 

Flora  and  I  were  married  early  in  June,  and  had  been 
settled  for  little  over  six  months,  amid  the  splendours 
of  Amersham  Place,  when  news  came  of  the  Emperor's 
escape  from  Elba.  Throughout  the  consequent  alarums 
and  excursions  of  the  Hundred  Days  (as  M.  de  Cham- 
bord  named  them  for  us)  I  have  to  confess  that  the 

483 


ST.  IVES 

Vicomte  Anne  sat  still  and  warmed  his  hands  at  the 
domestic  hearth.  To  be  sure,  Napoleon  had  been  my 
master,  and  I  had  no  love  for  the  cocarde  blanche.  But 
here  was  I,  an  Englishman,  already,  in  legal  but  inac- 
curate phrase,  a  ''  naturalised "  one,  having,  as  Mr. 
Romaine  put  it,  a  stake  in  the  country,  not  to  speak  of 
a  nascent  interest  in  its  game-laws  and  the  local  admin- 
istration of  justice.  In  short,  here  was  a  situation  to 
tickle  a  casuist.  It  did  not,  I  may  say,  tickle  me  in  the 
least,  but  played  the  mischief  with  my  peace.  If  you, 
my  friends,  having  weighed  the  pro  and  contra,  would 
have  counselled  inaction,  possibly,  allowing  for  the  M- 
Htude  de  foyer  and  the  fact  that  Flora  was  soon  to  be- 
come a  mother,  you  might  have  predicted  it.  At  any 
rate  I  sat  still  and  read  the  newspapers ;  and  on  the  top 
of  them  came  a  letter  from  Ronald,  announcing  that  the 
4th  had  their  marching,  or  rather  their  sailing,  orders, 
and  that  within  a  week  his  boat  would  rock  by  the  pier 
of  Leith  to  convey  him  and  his  comrades  to  join  the 
Duke  of  Wellington's  forces  in  the  Low  Countries. 
Forthwith  nothing  would  suit  my  dear  girl  but  we 
must  post  to  Edinburgh  to  bid  him  farewell— in  a  char- 
iot, this  time,  with  a  box  seat  for  her  maid  and  Mr. 
Rowley.  We  reached  Swanston  in  time  for  Ronald  to 
spend  the  eve  of  his  departure  with  us  at  the  cottage ; 
and  very  gallant  the  boy  looked  in  his  scarlet  uniform, 
which  he  wore  for  the  ladies'  benefit,  and  which  (God 
forgive  us  men!)  they  properly  bedewed  with  their 
tears. 

Early  next  morning  we  drove  over  to  the  city  and 
drew  up  in  the  thick  of  the  crowd  gathered  at  the  foot 
of  the  Castle  Hill  to  see  the  4th  march  out     We  had 

484 


I  GO  TO  CLAIM  FLORA 

waited  half  an  hour,  perhaps,  when  we  heard  two 
thumps  of  a  drum  and  the  first  notes  of  the  regimental 
quick-step  sounded  within  the  walls ;  the  sentry  at  the 
outer  gate  stepped  back  and  presented  arms,  and  the 
ponderous  archway  grew  bright  with  the  red  coats  and 
brazen  instruments  of  the  band.  The  farewells  on  their 
side  had  been  said;  and  the  inexorable  tramp-tramp 
upon  the  drawbridge  was  the  burthen  of  their  answer 
to  the  waving  handkerchiefs,  the  huzzas  of  the  citizens, 
the  cries  of  the  women.  On  they  came,  and  in  the 
first  rank,  behind  the  band,  rose  Major  Chevenix.  He 
saw  us,  flushed  a  little,  and  gravely  saluted.  I  never 
liked  the  man;  but  will  admit  he  made  a  fine  figure 
there.  And  I  pitied  him  a  little;  for  while  his  eyes 
rested  on  Flora,  hers  wandered  to  the  rear  of  the  third 
company,  where  Ensign  Ronald  Gilchrist  marched  be- 
side the  tattered  colours,  with  chin  held  up  and  a  high 
colour  on  his  young  cheeks  and  a  lip  that  quivered  as 
he  passed  us. 

"God  bless  you,  Ronald!  " 

"  Left  wheel  I  "  The  band  and  the  major  riding  be- 
hind it  swung  round  the  corner  into  North  Bridge 
Street;  the  rear  rank  and  the  adjutant  behind  it  passed 
up  the  Lawnmarket.  Our  driver  was  touching  up  his 
horses  to  follow,  when  Flora's  hand  stole  into  mine. 
And  I  turned  from  my  own  conflicting  thoughts  to 
comfort  her. 


485 


PR  s  9  so 


v.2.i 


\ 


